


A Tale of The Sea

by starspawnedwarlock



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Dismemberment, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Mistaken Identity, Murder, Pirates, Piratestuck, Slow Burn, Swordfighting, Swords, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-01-12 16:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18449957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starspawnedwarlock/pseuds/starspawnedwarlock
Summary: The story of a Pirate Queen and a ruthless Commodore, and really mixed emotions.Romantic shit "starts" in chapter 3





	1. She Recognised the Pirate Scum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anna Moirail the Homestuck Lesbian](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Anna+Moirail+the+Homestuck+Lesbian).



 Vriska smirked as the salt-scented air blew across her face, causing her hair to whip behind to her. She stared out the massive blue expanse of the sea, the surface rising and falling with its waves. Her ship rocked gently beneath her, as she leaned out over the side, feet together, one hand grasping the rigging. Her other hand was hanging down, telescope being spun on her fingers, the constant threat of it dropping barely present in her mind.

 She could hear her crew bustling behind her, tending to the ship and getting ready for the events soon the happen. Some were checking the rigging, others were scrubbing the deck, and a fair few carried small crates of cannonballs, groaning from the weight. She was half tempted to make them drop the crates on their feet, just to teach them a lesson.

 She decided against it, however. They would need those feet to storm the bricks of her target.

 Speaking of said target...

 "Land ho!" came the cry from the crow's nest. The crew renewed their pace as she swung from the ropes, landing on the deck with a soft thud. The sailors rightfully took extra steps to ensure they didn't get too close, allowing her a nice stride up to the quarterdeck, where her first mate was steering the ship. She looked to her captain expectantly.  
Not saying a word, Vriska took the helm from her, looking over the entirety of her ship. Pulling the wheel to the left, she yelled out her commands.

 "Prepare for approach! Load the cannons!"

 She turned to her first mate. "Fetch me my cutlass."

 Vriska watched as she scurried off, not daring to dally. Dallying was a punishable offence on her ship. Right up there with speaking back to the captain, in any way bringing inconvinience to the captain, and not cleaning out the shitter after you've used it. There had been more than one death sentence for that last one.

 Looking ahead once more, Vriska saw the port far off, growing closer as the Mindfang ploughed through the water, weaving with the waves that lapped against its sides. The wind continued to flow across the deck, letting the Serket's coat gently blow behind her. Seagulls were squawking above her. This was her at peace. In the throes of the ocean sea. In her element. Or at least... one of her elements.

 "FLY THE BLACK FLAG!"  


 Legislacerator Pyrope twirled the coin between her fingers as she sat draped across her chair in the back of her cabin. She stared down onto the map in front of her, charting all of the known seas. Shaded red spots denoted where she had cleared of Piracy, and shaded blue where she had yet to get to work. It was just a matter of time before those areas, too, became red.  
 

 She hadn't failed her Empress yet, and she didn't plan to. With each successful sinking of a ship, capturing of a crew, and hanging of a pirate, her reputation grew stronger. Within a year of working within Her Imperious Condescension's Imperial Navy she had already risen to owning her own ship, and leading the most daring raids on the pirate scum that fouled the waters. Her sword had claimed more criminal lives than the most worn gallows in the Capitol of Alternia, she would reckon. And that number was only to grow. Soon.

 Her fingers traced over the dot on the map, denoting the port she was headed to. If her reports were correct, a certain ship would be attempting an attack on it. They would be under the impression that they would win. Then she would arrive. It would be swift, brutal and beautiful. A large grin was spreading across her face even now, thinking about the feeling of cutting down the brigands one by one, and letting the captain join the others. 

 She let the coin pass across her fingers, before letting it rest on the tips of her index and middle finger. That would decide her death. A slow starvation on an empty island, or something much quicker. The Commodore would be glad to inflict it on whatever captain she was to meet. 

 Rising up from the chair, she reached for the thick coat hanging from the stand beside her. It's bright red and teal colouration was partially so that she could not be mistaken, and easy to pick out from a crowd of her less colourful subordinates, and partially because she liked the colours. That little bit wasn't as well known, and she preferred that it remain that way. 

 With the coat on her shoulders, and her sheathed cutlass in her hands, Legislacerator Commodore Pyrope began towards the door, where the poker-faced seaman opened the door for her, not making eye-contact. The last one had made that mistake. She wondered if cleaning the latrines had taught him a lesson yet.

 Stepping out onto the busy deck, the shouting of the sailors became much more abundant. The well kept and fanciful design of the Imperial ship was maintained by the multitude of carpenters and scrubbers. The scrubbers were actually just people of other positions who displeasured her. She was sure the master-of-arms was down on the deck below, cleaning away whatever gunk was carried onto the ship.

 She didn't tolerate incompetency, to put it lightly.

 With a confident walk she ascended the steps to the quarterdeck, taking over the helm. She already knew they were approaching the port. She kept track of it all. Losing track meant a weakness. And when it came to pirates: a weakness was a death.  
 

 "Commodore!" Her Lieutenant called, pointing to the flumes of smoke in the distance.

 Terezi tightened her grip on the helm. 

 "BATTLE POSITIONS!"  


 Vriska dropped down as a cannonball soared over her head, blasting through a section of the railing behind her. She took a moment to get her bearings before looking back at the fortified walls of the port upon which a dozen cannons were set, being manned furiously by their crews.  
 

Vriska found which cannon had shot at her and, drawing her fingers up to her temple, brought the crew under he control. She watched with glee as each of them leapt from the fort's high walls into the rocky surf below. Her crew cheered, before another volley of their cannon shots smashed into the wall, sending bricks and chunks of rock flying. The sounds were tremendously loud, even to her atop the quarterdeck. 

 She cackled as the ship drew closer to the port, and the soldiers shouts and yells were becoming more clearly audible above those of her own men and the cannons they fired. She enjoyed picking them off one by one, seeing them plummet to their deaths. She wasn't going to do that to every one of them, of course. She had a cutlass to redden.  
She watched as the oarboats were lowered into the water, sword wielding brigands of her crew filling them. With a nod, she indicated for her First Mate to take the helm, as she began towards the edge of the ship, where the row-boats had begun to move towards the shore. With one deft leap, she vaulted the edge of the ship, and dropped down, landing firmly at the fore of one of the three smaller boats.

 Drawing her cutlass, she pointed towards the port. "Forward!"

 The crew immediately jumped pace, sending the small wooden boat forward even faster than before, as the port grew bigger in the distance. She could see some soldiers gathering on the stone pier to meet them, getting their rifles into position. The water was already filled with the floating corpses of the boat previous.

 Vriska laughed as she forced one of them to swing their rifle like a club, knocking the entire group into disarray. Looking back, she seized control of one of her own cannon crews, and lined up the shot. Her fellows in the boat cheered as a cannon shot barrelled straight into the group and the gore was spread across the brick pier. 

 With a triumphant grin Vriska leaped up, holding her cutlass by her side.

 Time for the fight to truly begin.

 The first few soldiers didn't even last five seconds. With swift strikes their blood was left to seep through the gaping wounds she opened in their flesh. Arcs of blood sprang high as her sharpened blade soared trhough the air, cutting down soldier after soldier. One or two managed to clang their blades against hers, putting up a minimal struggle before she had them down, and they joined the drained.

 Moving from the pier, into the port town itself, Vriska saw the inhabitants still fleeing. The fools must have thought that the ship would have been torn apart from the cannon garison. Bringing up her pistol from her waist, Vriska took aim and fired a single shot to the feet of a random commoner sprinting away with their valuables in their hands.  
They tripped up, spilling the few pieces of jewellry from the chest they carried. They scrambled to pick it all back up, gathering it in their hands, until a blade met their neck. The commoner froze, then looked up, to see Vriska with an open, waiting hand. With a terrified look, they deposited their wealth into her hand, which quickly went into one of the many pockets of her coat.

 The captain watched as the poor man scrampered away, a smile on her face. Turning to the tavern across the street, she watched as it lit up, her own men roaring as they tossed torch after torch into it. A cannonball screamed overhead, smashing into the bell tower that came crumbling down. Her crew were shouting in one great chorus above the screams of terror and yells of soldiers.

 Laughing her wicked laugh once again, the Captain continued into the town, the flashing swings of her cutlass cutting down any soldiers that got in her way. With her brazen walk, and her crew wreaking havoc behind her, Vriska made her way to the port armoury, where her prize lay.

 

 Terezi screamed out the command as the row of cannons fired, their shots smashing into the side of the pirate ship. There was no cheer, just another order, as they cannons were prepared to launch a barrage again. No words were audible through the clamoring of the crew as they worked, desperate to sink the ship before it turned portside to them.

 The commodore stared out to it, sword sheathe in one hand, drawn sword in the other. She ran her tongue over her wicked sharp teeth, keeping her bloodthirsty hands from twitching. They would spill the delicious colour soon enough, she knew. Her face was covered in a terrifying grin, as her eyes looked over the red bifocals perched on her nose.

 Her crew gave her a wide berth on the quarterdeck, so that there was a circle around her. One would have noticed this circle was less worn than that planks around it. 

 Seeing another fire begin in the port itself, Terezi's expression darkened. They wouldn't be scared out by the cannonfire, she guessed.

 "Bring us in." She spoke simply. Her crew immediately began to get the rowboats ready to lower down into the water. She didn't saw another word as she slowly began to walk towards the side of the ship, sword still held tight in her hand. The soldiers parted for her, standing stock still in respect as their Commodore marched through. 

 She arrived just as the boats were set to lower, and leapt up into one with a quick jump. She barely moved as it dropped far down into the water below, and as the splashing and shaking caused the soldiers to become unsteady.

 She began to sway her sword arm slightly, and her fingers readjusted themselves in unrest. She was beyond ready. The shore didn't come fast enough.

 The moment she was within range, the Pyrope jumped over the water, landing firmly. Without a word to her crew, she began forward, speed walking towards the burning homes and businesses. It was only when she saw the laughing pirates in front of her that she broke into a sprint, leaning forward as she drew back her sword.

 The two brigands didn't have a word to say before the flashes of her steel sliced through them. Terezi let out a deep breath as the bloody began to spray over her, and drip from her blade. Her grin became a wide smile, and she printed into the wreckage and ruin, ready to clear the bastion of the Empire of pirate scum.

 The last thing a dozen men saw was a shark toothed smile, following by a darting length of death. Terezi saw wave after wave of glorious colour. It was hilarious and beautiful. And too easy.

 Listening in for where the pirates where, the Pyrope's head turned sharply. The armoury.

 

Vriska watched as her crew of gambligants plundered through the armoury's stores, carrying out crates of gundpower and guns. They were cheering merry tunes over the crackling of the fires burning around them, and the screams of commoners as the port was torn asunder.

 With a wicked smile, she turned to head back to her ship, but stopped. Striding towards her, sword drawn, was someone she recognised. From tales, mostly. Not enough survived her raids for any definite details, but the red and teal outfit she wore made it obvious it was her. 

 Readjusting her grip on her sword, Vriska began to step towards the commodore. The legislacerator didn't falter step, and began to raise her arm to strike.  
When they were but four meters from each other, both sprung forward. The clashing of steel rang out, as they immediately launched into a dance of blades Ducking and dodging, and swinging and stabbing, Vriska evaded the attacks of her opponent, trying to get some in off her own. She dashed to the side as the sword came down verticalupon her, and jumped over the sweeping leg the Pyrope gave, before swinging her own sword down, then stabbing directly at her midsection. 

 The blade was parried, and the two parted, walking in a circle opposite each other. They stared directly into each other's eyes, not letting them be distracted anywhere else. While a lesser pirate would have been moved by the legislacerator's piercing glare, Vriska saw opportunity.

 Turning her wrist, she angled her sword perfectly, and saw the Commodore squint as the light was directed right into her eyes. With a puff of sand behind her, Vriska leapy forward, slashing with her cutless. The Commodore barely avoided it, but quickly regained her composure swing after swing, parry after parry, and returned her attacks. The clanging of their swords meeting filled the courtyard as Vriska's crew made their way back with the plunder. 

 Taking large steps forward, the captain swung her cutlass side to side, forcing the Commodore back, before she stepped forward, parrying the blade and striking out with her elbow. Vriska fell back as the strike connected with her jaw, and barely managed to parry the next two jabs of the Commodore's blade.

 Grunting, she lashed out with her boot, cathcing the legislacerator in the shin and causing her to stumble back, snarling from the sudden pain. A gap was left between them, and they began their slow circling once again. 

 Vriska tightened her grip on her cutlass, preparing ocne again to resume her attack. The Commodore was as vicious as the legends had described her. Most opponenets didn't last beyond the first engagement.

 Just as she readied herself to strike, she heard the screaming of a cannonball, as it zipped over their heads, impacting with the building behind them. Neither of them looked, keeping their gaze trained on each other. It wasn't until the tall building beside them begin to crack and groan that they paid it any heed. Glancing over, Vriska saw it began to tilt towards them, and the walls beginning to crumble. With a start, she began to sprint away, as did her opponent, although not before a vicious slash to Vriska's arm.

 Stumbling slightly, the pirate captain evaded the falling rubble, barely managging to make it out of the way of the collapsing structure. Looking back at the piled ruin, she saw no sign of her opponent.

 A shame, really, she was enjoying that fight.

 Spinning on her heel, and making sure her coat was lifted dramatically enough by the force of her turn, Vriska set off back to her ship. Altogether it had been a successful raid, and all she needed to do now was evade the Commodore's ship, which wouldn't be too hard, with its lack of a captain.

 She returned to the port to find her crew patiently waiting. Hopping down onto the small boat, she sheathed her sword, and reclined as they began their way back.

 

 Terezi snarled as she lifted rubble from herself, crawling out of the wrecked building. Wiping the blood from her face, she stood, looking out to see from between the buildings in front of her. She could see the pirate ship sailing away in the distance, and her own ship lingering near the port, firing shots at it.

 Finding her sword, she sheathed it, before beginning her slow journey to the port, to return to her ship. She clenched her fist as she walked. That was the firs tpirate captain to escape her grip, and it would be the last.

 She recognized the pirate scum from her attire, and her skill with the blade. It would be her, Legislacerator Commodore Terezi Pyrope, that would bring Vriska Serket down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had this idea a while ago, decided I'd actually have a go and try to write it. This wont be updated on a strict basis, maybe whenever I get the inspo to write the next chapter. There will be seven chapters, so yeah, you know when it's gonna end roughly I guess.  
> But yeah this is my first solely F/F fic as well, which is pretty sicc! Been meaning to write one for a while, and tried but I lost motivation. Guess Y'all will never see my eattherich!warlockofthorns!Rose/rich!Kanaya fic. Unless I get inspiration  
> BUT YEAH HAPPY 413 THIS IS THE FIRST UPLOAD OF THE DAY I HOPE I CAN GET MORE OUT TODAY!  
> ALSO HAPPY 413 ANNA!!!


	2. So It Began

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If your not partial to creepy torture scenes with a small bit of detail skip the Terezi section, I'll give a summary in the notes at the bottom

 The prisoner whimpered as he kneeled, his knees scraped and bloody from being dragged along the rought stone floor of the dungeons. Blood was dripping from his busted nose and lips, landing in the pools of rancid liquid that had amassed in the cell over time, a combination of sea spray through the barred window, blood, piss, and vomit. His arms were held aloft with chains connecting to the walls, the tight manacles having already cut through his skin, leading to long trails of blood mixing with the rain and sweat covering his body. 

 All he wore was a a scrap of cloth tied around his waist, showing the bruises covering his arms and back, from the beating he had received from the soldiers who had captured him in the brothel. Judging from the way his bones pressed against the skin, and the rampant swelling, it seems some of his bones had been broking.  
The soldiers had beaten him half to death. Just as the Commodore had requested.

 Not like the pirate deserved much better, in her opinion. The only reason they hadn't went the full way and left his brains scattered across the cobbles was that he had something valuable to the Empire. Something valuable to Terezi in particular, also. The ticket to her victory.

 The Legislacerator strode through the dungeon halls, letting her boots click against the floor as much as she needed to alert the prisoner she was here. One would be surprised how much fear the crescendo of clicking heels could create. She could see him trying to raise his thoroughly fucked up head to look at her. He failed, of course. She would have to discipline her men if they failed to make him this meagre. 

 He had been down here for two days, with the only meals being half cooked rats that would kill him within the week. She wouldn't need him after that, however. She would have all she needed after today. She was persuasive like that.

 Terezi stopped right in front of him, letting him gaze upon her steel capped boots, before roughly grabbing him by the thin hair remaining on his head. He gasped as his head snapped up, and his eyes, near swollen shut, stared straight into those of the Commodore. 

 She saw them widen, and he began to shake harder than before, and she couldn't help but grin, her wide smile of sharp teeth doing even more to terrify her captive.  
Cackling, she released him and stepped away, letting her coat fall form her shoulders. With a flourish, she threw it to the coat rack nailed to the damp wall. Rubbing her hands together, she looked over the table of instruments laid out before her. They would serve adequate, she thought. The Legislacerator removed her gloves and set them on the surface beside a particularly nasty looking hammer. She would use that in just a bit.

 For now, however, she selected a pair of tongs, and hummed as she placed the ends into a brazier lit within viewing distance of the prisoner. 

 "Alright," she began, making the prisoner start. "You're going to die, we both know that, don't we?"

 He whimpered.

 "Oh, well now you!" She giggled, eyeing him like a predator would prey.

 "With that out of the way, we can discuss why you aren't dead yet." The Commodore pulled up a chair in front of him, making the back face him, and sitting in it the wrong way.

 "You see, you served under a particular pirate captain didn't you? A very particular one. Famous, even." She gave him a moment to answer.

 "Not saying anything, huh? Well, we have ways around that. Very nasty ways if I may say so myself." 

 His shaking grew worse.

 "Now, I'm going to ask you this little question once, and if you don't answer, or, Empire forbid lie, well then I get to have some fun! How does that sound?"

 He said nothing, but instead coughed and spluttered, some flecks of vomit dripping from his mouth. It was all he could muster up. 

 "Hm, well that isn't a great start. You should say 'That sounds great, Commodore!' Go on, give it a try."

 He leaned away from her, and said nothing. But he couldn't put enough distance between himself and her to avoid the fist that flew towards him, smacking him in the jaw and sending more blood hurtling to the side. She grabbed him by the hair again, and landed three hard punches directly into his face, further ruining it.

 Her knuckles where stinging as she let his head roll back down. Reaching out, she guided it gently upwards, and heard him grunt in pain.

 "What do you say?"

 "T-that.. that sou- ah... sounds g-reat, com-commodore." He spluttered out the words, his chest convulsing under the pain.

 "Ah! There we go!"

 Rising, Terezi backed went back over to the brazier, where the tongs were red hot. She slid her fingers into the handle, and didn't look at him as she spoke.

 "Okay, so where is Vriska Serket?"

 "I... Don't know..."

 "Idiot." She spun around with the tongs, and his screams filled the dungeons for the next hour, as she completed method after method. 

 She never took kindly to liars. Ever long after she got the information she needed, the location of her greatest foe, she let him endure a bit more pain, to punish him for such crimes.

 Setting down the hammer, Terezi washed her hands in a bowl of fresh water that had been laid down for her before the session began. She watched with fascination was the water turned the pretty colour she loved. 

 Drying her hands on a cleaned and pressed towel, she turned back to the prisoner. He looked ever worse than before, of course. The skin on one side of his body was red from branding, slicing and every other tortue conceivable. His other arm, lit by the moonlight flooding in from the barred window, had the same curvature as the chain holding it up, with five new joints, courtesy of the nifty little hammer.

 Humming to herself, she lifted the quill sitting in its bottle of ink, and began to write down everything he had told her, as he cried behind her. Eventually she grew tired of his constant moaning, and without much procession, lifted the pistol beside her, aimed it without looking, and pulled the trigger.

 She heard the loud bang of the gunpowder igniting, and felt the bucking recoil, before the sound of blood and brain splattering against the stone wall. His crying was finally silenced, and she finished her report in peace. 

 Smiling, she placed it down with the rest of the sheets, to cross reference once she had collected one from every prisoner, to weed out the lies and match the truths. There were three left. 

 Getting up, she replaced her gloves, and slung her coat around her shoulders. She roleld up the papers and placed them into the cylindrical scroll. With all her stuff gathered, Terezi left the room, heading upwards into her home, that lay just above the dungeons. 

 The perks of having her own island were many, and being able to make her prisoners scream as loud as she wanted, and being able to take a two minute walk form the dungeons to the main hall to eat her dinner was definitely high on her list.

 She passed one of her many guards as she strode into the main hall.

 "Call down some servants to clean the interrogation room, and to prepare another prisoner."

 The guard nodded and took off, and Terezi sat, watching as her meal was laid out before her. She smiled and lifted her knife and fork as the dish was unveiled. Without a second of hesitation she dug in, sliding the knife deep into the rare meat, and feeling her mouth water as the juices began to pool on her plate.

 She ate a decent pace, blood from the meat dripping down her chin as she she chewed loudly. She used to take her time, but time was of the essence. The sooner she had Vriska's location found, the better. 

 

 The Captain watched as her men dug in front of her, their shovels digging deep into the sand with each thrust, and lifting out heaps of the finely ground stone. They had hit the compact, wet sand some time ago, and had piles of it formed at either side of the hole, which was already six foot deep. 

 She could see the sweat running down their backs as they worked, getting deeper and deeper into the island in pursuit of their prize. Well, her prize, to be exact. Not like her men had the ability to grasp what was benefiting her and what was benefiting them. She preferred them simple like that. 

 Some of her men were wandering around the island, keeping an eye out for any of the natives, or just enjoying their time of the ship. It was homely, but it got boring being in the same surroundings for days on end.

 Vriska sitting on a rock, only a few feet from the hole, gazing at her ship from a distance. It was beautiful, with its cerulean sails and black hull. She had gained possession of it by following the clues of her ancestors. They we famous pirates back in their day, and the most recent of which had ensured that her legacy would continue through Vriska. And the Serket was sure she would not fail. 

 She was taking every step she could, claiming the sea port by port. She had already established herself as a nuisance to the empire, with eight ports razed in flames. She had the highest bounty on her head of all the pirate captains. All that was left was to deal with the ships that had set sail after her, and retrieve the treasures that she sought for.

 Most considered the treasures mere legend, not worth following. But Vriska knew better than that. The possibilities once she possessed them were to great to ignore. She could ascend to rule the seas, and have whatever she wanted. A fortress, a fleet of ships, wealth beyond imagination, and power. It got her excited even just thinking about it. 

 Smiling widly at the thought, Vriska heard the shovels of her men hit against something solid. Turning around, she saw them digging out exactly what she had been looking for. 

 The ornate golden chest was embedded with dozens of jewels, glinting in the harsh midday sun as it was hoisted from the hole by the hands of her pirates. Without a word they set it before her, and Vriska beheld the glory of the golden skull, its mouth open in an endless scream, and the lock within its jaws.  

 The Captain kneeled down, gazing into the guardian's ruby eyes. She gave it a wink as she pulled on the chord around her neck, revealing the intricate golden key. It was perhaps her luckiest find ever. Stumbling across the corpse of a godless one was so incredibly unlikely, and unlikelier still was that it would hold the single thing she wanted most. Yet it happened. And she wouldn't have it any other way.

 Sliding the key into the slot, Vriska took a deep breath, before twisting. She heard a chorus of mechanisms twisting and turning within the lock, long after she had completed her twist. The Ruby eyes of the skull began to turn, going a full rotation before coming to a halt. There was a breathless second, before the lid popped.

 There was a scream, as the sand around them erupted, as grey limbs burst forth. Vriska stood, drawing her cutlass in a split second as the figures rose out of the sand, their grey skin lined with purple veins giving away their origins. 

"Godless!" Her first mate yelled, drawing a pistol.

 Then the fight began, her men swinging their blades and firing shots, as the godless punched and grabbed. Each slice of a cutlass did little to deter the 6'6 beings, as the shots only made them stumble back as the balls of lead were propelled straight into them. Vriska watched as they got hold of one of her men, and without much ceremony, tore his arm right form his body. 

 Spinning around, she severed the fingers of one reaching for her, and raised her pistol. A single shot to the eye did the trick, as it fell back, clutching the socket spraying purple blood. The Serket kicked another away, and yelled her orders to her men.

 "Get the chest to the ship!"

 She began to walk backwards as they clambered to get the chest. With a grunt, she lodged her sword deep into one of the godless and saw its face screw up with pain, before it reached out and grabbed the blade, trying to pull it out.

 The Serket yelled and slammed her head forward, impacting with the creature's nose, and watched as it fell back. 

 She heard another blood-curdling scream of terror as another member of her crew was ripped in half by the godless, the sound of tearing flesh and snapping bone ringing out.

 Vriska took a quick shot at the perpetrator. She wouldn't let an inconvenience such as that slide.

 For what they had in strength, the godless walked slowly, not used to using their limbs after so long. Vriska and her crew soon had a decent distance between them and the godless, and the Serket decided to try something.

 Raising her fingers to her temple, she focused, and watched as one of the godless stopped. She grunted in pain as she exerted more and more effort into her command, but watched with satisfaction as the godless reached up to its own face, and dug its fingers in. With a roar, it pulled its hands apart, and collapsed to the sand, the fleshy mess that was once a head spilling blood everywhere.

 Vriska cackled as she ran back with her crew. She would love to prove her strength against the godless, but she was ill prepared, and had more important things to attend to. There was also the fact that she had just killed two, which was more than could be said for almost all pirates. 

 The rowboat managed to get away just as the godless reached the water, and promptly stopped, not willing to swim. They were bound to their island of creation, just as the legends had said.

 Vriska watched as the chest was placed in front of her once again, this time in the safety of the boat. The lid had thankfully stayed open, and she could easily lift it and behold the contents within. 

 With a smile, Vriska lifted out a small bundles of gleaming jewels, more beautiful than any she had ever laid eyes on before.

 So it began.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If you skipped Terezi section: she tortures and interrogates someone for Vriska's location, and is generally a really creepy maniacal gal, she is kinda obsessed with finding Vriska also)  
> this was done in two days which was pretty sick  
> yeah  
> who knows when ill do the next one


	3. Or She Would Die Trying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vriska attends a party to complete a mysterious mission.

 Terezi twisted the wine glass in her hand as she leaned against one of the many gold inlaid marble pillars that lined the great hall. The red liquid swirled enticingly as she did so, the wine easily worth more than an entire street of peasant housing. It was probably one of the cheapest things there, as well. Taking a small sip, the Commodore looked out across the field of dancers. Their outfits were awfully drab. The men's coats were all dark blues and navies, while the women's dresses all the same shades of yellow, pink and green. The only thing not normal were the masks that everyone was required to wear. She had least expected some bold colour in such an presitigious event. But then again, aristocracy was often disappointing.

 Terezi looked rather out of place with her vibrant teal and red, not that she cared. They look more ridiculous to her than she did them, with their boring sombre tones, walking around the dance floor as if they were at a funeral. It was woefully boring. Wrinkling her nose in her distaste, she took another sip, that quickly turned into a chug. Emptying the glass, she frowned, she would need a lot more than that to make it through this night.

 The party was sponsored by the Empress, and she was set to arrive in the next few hours. Terezi was just there to ensure that everything went smoothly, and that security was being upheld to the highest degree. Admittedly she did wish to have some fun, although her chances of that were slim.

 If anything she wanted to return to her pursuit. She had been dragged of the trail for this, and she was so close to catching the pirate. It wouldn't take much more interrogating to finally get a hold of her location.

 But for now she was stuck with this situation, watching the dronery of nobles and elites to slow and mind numbing music. She would kill for something to liven it up.  
   
 Vriska grinned maliciously as she left the ship, her black heels clicking against the gangplank then the stone of the port, the end of her rich black dress being carried by her crew behind her. Flexing her gloved fingers, she looked up to the Manor at the top of the town. She could faintly hear the music from within, and see the brightly lit windows stark against the darkness.

 She was here for business, of course, but there was no reason she couldn't have a little fun, hence the dress. It would be more amusing to walk boldly through the party, in plain sight of everyone, rather than climbing in through some back window, although that did sound like an adventure within itself. She was feeling particularly refined today, however.

 She saw the peasants eyeing her with envy and hatred as she walked up the port, headed towards the Manor. They mistook her for nobility, of course, but they would hate her either way. Peasants weren't too keen on pirates, she found.

 Upon checking through her telescope, stealthily attached to her thigh, Vriska found the main entrance guarded. She would be able to bluff them, with some amount of time, but that wasn't really what she was feeling today, and violence would just ruin the party. Perhaps there was a side entrance.

 Spinning on her heel, Vriska began down the sidestreets, until she happened upon a side door to the manor. She could tell it was supposed to be locked, but a rebellious pair of young nobles had went out for certain activities. Vriska couldn't help but grin as she approached. It took no effort at all to make the girl remove her mask and toss it to the pirate, then to make them both jump from the little bridge, into the water below. She wouldn't miss them.

 Crossing the bridge and entering through the door, Vriska placed the black mask on her face. It covered up the entirety of her upper face, although her eyes glinted malevolently through, all eight of her pupils visible. She hoped it didn't give her away to easily.

 Waving away her crew, she ascended the steps leading up to the manor proper. Her black dress was trailing against the stone steps slightly as she rose up, the sounds of the party getting louder.

 After only a moment, she reached a small door in front of her. The vibtrations that rang trhough it told wonders of the jovial feasting behind. After taking one last second to fix her dress, and adjust her mask a quarter degree clockwise, she was ready. With a flourish, she swung open the door.

 Vriska put on her most charming fanged smile as she stepped out into the fray, holding herself properly, in the same manner she had seen other attendees of the party do. Although she made sure to hold just a little looseness at the edges of her saunter, a little more sway in her hips. Just a little tease. She bit back a cackle.

 Her eyes quickly picked out the points of interest. Wine, food, and some fine looking damsels to get properly acquainted with. She decided to take them in that order. Furrowing her brows, she aggressively snapped her fingers at a passing waiter, who took a detour to her to offer a glass of wine. She rolled her eyes, before taking the entire bottle. She ran her artificially forked tongue over her fanged teeth once, before taking a swig.

 The wine was something special. It was fruity, and had a flavour she was sure some connoisseur would describe as "interesting" or "exotic". But to her? It was weak piss. She was going to need a second or third bottle for anything fun to come of the drink.

 She ignored the most impolite stares of the snotty aristocrats around her, preferring to mosey her way over to the buffet. She almost bumped into a few of the swirling dancers as she crossed directly through the middle floor. With a few dexterous ducks and dodges, she avoided each one, chuckling to herself with pride, before taking another long swig.

 She raised an eyebrow as the food that lay before her as she reached the table. A great selection of various meals were threatening to break the long table with their weight. She couldn't name half of what was before her, beyond "fish", "meat" and "the green shit". She muttered a few obscenities to herself as she snatched up a knife, flipping it between her fingers with practiced skill and precision. She looked to the rather scared looking highborn girl who stood at the table beside her, a small plate in hand, with a few pathetic portions of food beautifying it like a piece of abstract art. She snorted, before spinning 180 to lean against the table behind her.

 She let her head tilt back, her hair falling away to reveal her masked face. The girl stared at her. Vriska smiled, and was happy to see the tiniest of blushes come to the girl's face.

 "Say, you wouldn't happen to know if any of this is edible?" She asked, feigning a joking concern.

 The girl looked taken aback. "I... I believe most of it is."

 Oh, she was a fool. Perfect.

 "Really?" She shook her head. "Could have sworn some of looked as though it were an exotic poison. You know the type. Just throw it in a buffet and watch as the highborn drop dead, you know?"

 She gasped. "I-Is that really possible?"

 "Well of course, it's quite common."

 The girl looked down to her food with a tint of fear. Oh, this was too good.

 "I'm not too sure I wish to eat this anymore." The girl said, looking dejected.

 "Oh I wouldn't be sure." Vriska assured her. "After all, we could do a little test bite. Just a little."

 "Would that not kill us with its poison?" Her eyes were wide.

 "Not if you only eat a little bit, it would just make your little tummy hurt for a bit. Think... If you only get stabbed by the tip of a cutlass, it compares not to being impaled all the way through."

 The girl looked a little shocked with the example the dark mistress gave her, but there was a curiosity in her eyes, an apprehensiveness too. And just a growing tint of a blush on her cheeks. Things that told Vriska all she needed to know.

 "Here." Vriska leaned towards her, spinning the knife in her hands before letting it fly. With just a flick of her wrist the blade shot dowards, impaling through the small cut of salmon on her plate, and cutting through the metal plate itself. Vriska was almost offended by the deplorable size of the cut, but didn't show it.

 With a tiny tilt of the head that she made sure the girl saw, Vriska reached forward to pull the knife out, carrying the meat with it. She held it up in front of her, letting her mouth fall open, exposing her fangs. The blush grew.

 Time to lay it on thick.

 "Perhaps we ought to bite together, take our fates into each others hands." The eyes of Vriska's enthralled damsel grew bigger. "With a bite we can take the chance, and decide out futures, in each others arms..." She moved closer, leaning in. The girl did the same. "...We could find out right now, if our destinies our truly entertwined as I so surely hope they are..."

 Her face was but a few inches from the girl's. She saw her mouth open, and her eyes begin to close. Vriska was whispering now.

 "Just one chance, in this very moment."

 She fell silent as she moved the knife away, opening her mouth wider and preparing for the kiss.

 The girl yelped as she was suddenly wrenched away by the arm. Vriska opened her eyes to see an extraordinarily angry looking man dragging her away, his face as red as the poor excuse for tomatoes just beside her. The girl's husband looked at her with pure wrath, as Vriska gave him the smuggest smile she could muster, which was quote fucking smug.

 She cackled just as he was out of sight, turning back to the table. The rich assholes were far too easy to fuck with.

 She heard some whispered comments over to her right, sly and insulting. They were about her. She didn't even have to look as she took control, making the cowards spill their drinks over their great, expensive dresses. She had to bite down another cackle. She could make a show, for sure, but she couldn't directly expose herself. That would make everything exponentially harder, as well as ruin the fun little segment of her mission she found herself in now.

 She glanced over to her right just as she was about to decide on what to eat, and found someone standing stock still, staring at her. Vriska recognised the naval uniform of a commodore immediately, although the colour scheme was quite striking. The woman was looking at her with eyes of steel, as it trying to pierce into her very being. Vriska made sure she found nothing, putting on her most faux innocent face. Vriska saw the hand resting on the sword at her side, the grip tight.

 She studied the face of the woman more closely as she stepped towards her, making her presence obvious enough that staring wouldn't warrant suspicion. Her face was strong, proud, and scarred. There was a few spots of scarring on her left cheek, a splintered shrapnel from piece of wood, shattered by canonball, perhaps? There was a long slice going from below her right eye, down diagonal, going right through the centre of her lips, and running right down to the end of her chin, where the sword had presumable finished its bloody swing. There were more on her neck, ghastly and vicious wounds that Vriska could match with a few of her own, were they not carefully concealed under makeup or carefully placed clothing.

 Vriska leaned forward as the woman reached her, daring. Vriska was a few inches taller, but it was clear from how the commodore held herself she wasn't used to this mattering. She had found ways around dealing with tall individuals.

 After a moment the woman finally let words pass through her black lips. "You better not be stirring up trouble here, miss." Her words were sharp, cracking and aggressive. Vriska saw sharp teeth as her lips pulled away for the "iss".

 "Trouble?" Vriska replied, looking aghast. "I would never cause anything close to trouble, madame..." She took a step closer, until only an inch of space was between their bodies. She turned her head slightly away, and lowered her voice to a sadistic whisper, laden with suggestions not uttered. "... unless you want me to?" She let her bottom lip get caught on a fang for a perfect moment.

 The commodore stayed for a second, before walking away. Vriska was part elated with a sense of victory, yet also disappointed. Such a promising encounter cut short too soon. She shrugged, grinning. With another flourish, she spun around, snatching up an entire smoked fish, and throwing it on a plate. She drank down the rest of the wine bottle in one, before grabbing another from a different waiter from last time.

 She was having so much fun.  


 Terezi had caught sight of the party newcomer not long after she arrived, carrying herself across the floor like an empress in her own bedchambers. She sneered at the cocky stride, expecting nothing to come of her arrogance save for a slightly annoyed, overly wealthy asshole to complain. And she didn't exactly not want that.

 She had fetched another glass of wine, and was sipping it as she went her rounds, pouncing on each of the party security, interrogating them without warning. Their faces were stricken with terror as they answered her sudden questions each time. The fear and surprise was usually enough to make them tell the honest truth, even the things they planned not to mention to her, for whatever reason.

 She couldn't make a slip up. Not now. Everything needed to be in tip top shape. Every guards rifle was loaded, and they were forced to hold them at the ready all night. Each time she caught one slipping, she subjected them to a harsh beating just out of eyesight and earshot of the party. Her knuckles stung with a good pain afterwards. She got another glass of wine.

 It wasn't like the guards didn't exactly deserve such a treatment anyway. They were usually awful and vicious to the peasantry of the coastal town anyway, so what she did they had done a hundred fold to some little street urchin caught stealing a loaf of bread.

 She sneered, her fists clenching, before she relaxed, pushing such thoughts from her mind. She couldn't afford irrational anger. Terezi looked down to the glass she held in her hand. Maybe so many glasses wasn't a good idea.

 With a sigh, she set it down, deciding to abstain from it for the rest of the night.

 She looked around for something else to investigate, when she saw the newcomer getting awfully close to a wife of a guest. That raised an eyebrow.

 Terezi raised an eyebrow as she saw the husband come over and practically carry his wife away from the closeness of the smug, black clad madame.

 Terezi took a closer look at her clothing. It wasn't like anything else at the aprty, far more extravagant, experimental and revealing. And dark. She looked like she was headed to a funeral, or had just arrived from one.

 But there was another thing that caught Terezi's eye as she found herself stepping closer to the cackling woman. Her arms were not built like any aristocratic woman. They were slim yet had the definition of muscle. And her stance, even though it was conflicted, was not of a woman who spent hours practicing in her youth to match the perfect walks of her peers. No. It was the stance of someone who was constantly mindful of their balance.

 As she got just a little bit closer, she spied the woman glancing over, obviously concerned about the military uniformed security who approached her. Her act was infuriating. It was presented in such a perfect, complex way, that Terezi couldn't tell if she was a threat, or simply a nervous guest, a newcomer to this life, not just the party.

 When she got just a little closer, the madame turned to her, her eyes shadowed by the mask she wore. Terezi noticed such sharp teeth that hid themselves behind blue lips, upturned at the corners, in a constant smile. Her thick black hair tumbled down her shoulder, framing her face in such a way to make her beauty almost ephemeral, phantasmagorical, even.

 She was surprised by how she leaned forward just as Terezi got close. She wasn't afraid, not one bit. Innocent, or ballsy?

 She didn't say anything as the woman stared at her, her eyes, though hard to make out exactly where they looked, flitting about to absorb every aspect of her appearance. Now that she was right up close, the Pyrope could see a small scar on her cheekbone. Just a tiny one.

 Deciding she had spent long enough time on what she imagined to be an only partially successful intimidation, she finally spoke.

 "You better not be stirring up any trouble, miss."

 She hissed the words, watching carefully for a reaction. She found the hints of a grin meet her eyes.

 "Trouble?" She asked, a sweet tinge to her voice as she looked down on Terezi. Not many people could do that.

 "I would never cause anything close to trouble..."

 She stepped closer, right until their bodies were near touching. Terezi resisted the urge to push her away, or reach for her care, as she stared up at the smooth face that turned just a little bit before her.

 "...not unless you want me to?" She whispered, almost biting her lip.

 Terezi felt herself freeze. Were she less refined, her breath might have caught, her eyes may have widened, she would have let emotion slip through, a sign of how off-guard she was caught by the suggestion.

 The Pyrope wasn't sure what to do, as the woman waited right in front of her, her posture practically radiating pure confidence and assuredness. She had never met someone so strong in mind, so fearless, so ready to take the mental whip Terezi cracked against any who crossed her, and drape it across her shoulders like an ornament.

 In a fit of panic, and raw confusion, she turned away. She felt her insides exploding as she stepped away. Shame, shock and anger collided within her, a furious storm of each emotion vying for complete dominance, but tearing apart its vessel in its struggle.

 Terezi felt she couldn't stand it, and so headed out, directly towards the balcony door. She almost knocked the wood and glass wood off its hinges as she barreled out, stepping forward to rest her hands on the rail. She took deep breaths, the cold air rushing into her lungs, raspy breaths from the damage burning smoke had caused.

 She looked down across the town spread below her, thousands of streetlamps illuminating lanes completely empty, save for the homeless who squatted along them, just waiting for the soldiers who marched along the streets to kick them up and force them to the warrens below the docks, where disease, damp and darkness was found in abundance.

 Shaking her head, she straightened up. She was being dramatic. Needlessly so. She couldn't simply buckle at the first sight of challenge. She had faced down groups of ships others would soil themselves just to see, no matter who they were allied to. She had cut down pirate captain after pirate captain in mortal combat without a sweat breaking. She had cracked skulls, broke jaws, slit throats, and fed the endless bloodthirst of the empire without fault. How the hell was she supposed to take down the fiercest of pirates ever to sail if she couldn't face down some harlot at a fancy party.

 Turning back around to face the door she had come from, Terezi furrowed her brows and clenched her fists so tight she felt her nails dig into her palms, drawing blood. She wasn't going to break. With gritted teeth, she stepped forward, headed back into the fray. She was going to beat that bitch at her own game.  


 Vriska laughed and squeezed the side of the woman who sat on her lap, before she took a long drink of her third bottle. She was starting to feel some effects now, yes. The woman giggled, and would have been thrown off balance if not for the arm she had around Vriska's shoulder.

 "Gods, this really is pigs' piss isn't it?" She swore, looking at the label on the bottle. She much preferred Zahhak Vodka, or even Ampora Rum on the occasion.

 The woman laughed. "No, dear, it's Makara wine. It's quite expensive, actually. Named after the demonic legends of the waves." She stated matter-of-factly, as if proud to know of the tales that Vriska could recite a thousand times over from memory.

 Vriska chuckled. "Then my there is quite a quantity of expensive pigs' piss in my body right now. " She leaned forward to snog the giggling woman. She melted into Vriska's touch immediately, wholly caught up in her wild charm and confidence.

 The woman broke away for a second. "Gods, Miss Serket, you're so-"

 "Powerful? Incredibly sexy? Just straight up amazing? Trust me: I know."

 She cut off the woman's next bout of giggles with another snog.

 She was just sliding a slow hand up the woman's thigh, underneath her dress, when suddenly she was pulled away. Vriska opened her eyes at the sudden loss of a source of pleasure for the second time that night, looking up to find the commodore from earlier, staring down at her.

 "Let's have a dance, shall we?"

 The woman frowned in agitation. "Excuse me! We were in the middle o-"

 The commodore gave her a hard stare, with such a sharpness and raw wrath that the woman immediately stopped talking. Vriska couldn't help but smile. Time for the fun to begin.

 "If it is what you wish..." She shifted out from under the woman, standing up and meeting the gaze of the commodore, who held out her hand to guide Vriska to the floor. The Serket put out her and to take it, before retracting at the last second.

 "Wait, I almost forgot!"

 She spun around, before she grabbed her snog partner by the shoulders, who looked as excited as one could be for the split second before Vriska pulled her close, hard. There was a few seconds of furious making out, which was sure to get on the nerves of her soon to be dance partner. She also brought a hand up to feel an ample breast, but that was more for her sake than anything else.

 The woman was clinging desperately to her touch as she pulled away, standing up straight and giving the commodore a look.

 With a bow, she took the commodore's hand, and let herself be led by the steel grip to the dance floor.

 The teal and red coated individual led her right to the middle, bringing her close as she assumed the position. Vriska did so too, thought she wasn't afraid to let her hand drift a tad lower than it needed to be. The commodore didn't react. Vriska would make her react. She bet on it.

 They began to step with the rhythm of the musicians in the room, their movements perfect and practiced. Vriska may have spent her life on the sea, fighting, pillaging and revelling in the more simple aspects of pleasure, but she had found time to pick up how to do a few dances in her time. Helped with the lover aspect quite a bit.

 The commodore's steps were strict, precise, and rang of the power of her muscles with each movement. She was a women of powerful stance, of rigorous training and pure, strict, discipline. Her dancing spoke of this, moreso than anything else ever could.

 It was a harsh clash with the smoothness of Vriska's every move. Each loose yet perfectly on time movement was a show of her character, her flowing, adaptive personality, her flexible skillset and morals. She let herself be seen through the dance she performed in the commodore's arms. This was how she waved her true identity on her face, without her even realising.

 It gave her a stronger buzz than anything else that night had. She let the emotion show through a wide, fanged smile that she flashed with each turn.

 She wondered what the commodore thought she was. Did she simply think she was a newcomer to aristocracy, unsuited and uninformed, yet making up for her shortcomings with sheer force of personality? Or did she know she was a fraud, and was trying to figure out who she really was, to curious to simply draw blades against her.

 Vriska didn't mind what conclusion she came to, as she was prepared for both. A comforting guiding hand could be turned to more than comforting with a few winks and multi-layered words, and a vicious swing for the throat could be dodged, then parried with the twin daggers Vriska had strapped to her thighs.

 No matter what happened, she was excited. Especially with the emotion that begun to show on the commodore's face. She was slipping. Any moment now, she would figure out what was going on, or should would decide that Vriska was the one for her, and seek to make it true as soon as possible. The commodore opened her mouth, leaning forward.

 Any moment now...

 There was a trumpet sounded from outside the room, a pattern that Vriska was unfamiliar with. The commodore snapped to attention, turning to run towards it, before stopping and looking back. Vriska had brought her hands up to her mouth as if feigned shock. She let one finger drag across her lips. The commodore gritted her teeth, before turning and marching towards the trumpets. Then it shall be a little tormentor in her mind.

 Vriska laughed, clapping her hands together just as the commodore walked out through the main doors. Such incredible fun.

 She turned to head back to her other woman, who she imagined would still be sitting on her chair, sad and betrayed, but easily swayed back with a few honeyed words and delicate touches.

 "I believe that to be the trumpets indicating Her Imperious Condescension's arrival, yes." Vriska overheard another guest say.

 Fuck. That changed things. Time to jump-start the plan. She hoped her crew were ready.  


 Terezi swore many shocking phrases as she marched down the street from the manor, down to where Her Imperious Condescension began her luxurious, fuchsia carpeted walk. She would have the damned carpet spread from docks to manor if she had to, just so there would be a speck of dirt on the bare feet of the servants who carried her gold plated chair up.

 She was needlessly extravagant to be sure.

 Terezi thought back to her... "acquaintance", as she stepped down the endless steps and winding roads to the docks, where that massive, ostentatious ship of hers lay floating, the hundred man crew working day and night to serve her every need. Including her nine lovers. Nine.

 She had been so enthralling. So incredibly charismatic. Her fierce, captivating aura of confidence and poise, in the presence of Terezi herself, no less. Such a powerful force meeting the immovable object of Terezi's raw, iron will. It was a prodigious eruption of their minds, a beautiful storm of character.

 It was a drug to Terezi.

 She was pained to have been ripped away so harshly, right in the moment of her most heightened passion, right when she was about to make contact, to seal her fate, entwine it with the mysterious woman. She was ready to have the three fates decide their path, to have her entire planned future turned askew, had she simply laid her lips against those of the Mistress of Darkness, whose fanged smile pierced her heart.

 She swore again, spitting out the vile words and curses. Her frustration and fury was a whip of fire pulled from the maw of a demon, ready to crack against anything nearby, asperity and wrath: the flames that flowed across the infernal leather, set to scorch the skin of both victim and wielder.

 Terezi fell to a knee as Her Empress stood before her, only her eyes, wide, vehement and incensed, betraying her inner turmoil.

 "Rise," Was all that she said.

 Terezi stood, her composure and expression as perfectly trained as ever, hiding the pain within her.

 She walked alongside her Empress the entire time up, controlling the emotions within her. Her will was great hands of a titant, wrestling a molten sun, compressing it, hiding it away in a secluded place where only the creatures long lost to the world would know.

 She felt herself push it down, under the surface of discipline, as she finally reached the courtyard of the manor.

 A guard ran up to her, almost tripping down to his knees when he saw the Empress.

 "What is it?" Terezi snarled, her teeth bared.

 "A body was found in the river, drowned, along with a living girl." Shock hit Terezi like a canonball.

 "The survivor said that someone had approached, and pushed them into the river, after taking her mask. She presumably went up the hidden entrace."

 Terezi put together possibilities in her mind as quick as an arrow through flesh.

 "We also found someone else loitering around, drunk."

 Something snapped into place in the Arch-commodore's mind.

 "Bring him in front of me now or you die." She said, not giving even a dramatic pause.

 Within seconds the drunkard was thrown to her feet. She wasted no time in pulling his head up. Her heart stopped. On his neck was a tattoo of a spider. Everything began to settle into place.

 "It... It was..."

 "NO!"

 Terezi sprinted off, leaping through the open doors of the manor, barreling through the guests, ignoring their pained yells and cries as she pushed them aside, knocking some with sharp elbows and strikes of her cane. She weaved through the back corridors of the small manor, drawing the sword from the sheath in one swift movement as she ascended the stairs to the treasury.

 She snarled as she kicked down the door, and her heart exploded with purified rage at the sight that greeted her.

 There, crouched on the windowsill of the treasury tower, her Mistress was, admiring a shining gold circlet, as she pried out the last gem. She looked over to Terezi, and a shark smile lit up her face. They stared at each other for a moment, as yells came from the corridor behind Terezi. Yells of her title, Arch-Commodore.

 Realisation hit the face of the thief, the pirate, too. She realised that Terezi wasn't a normal commodore. She was the one devoted to hunting her down.

 The Pyrope screamed, launching her blade in a deadly throw that was dodged by Serket, who caught it at the last second as it flew past. She looked over as Terezi sprinted towards her, and winked. With a triumphant scream, she leapt from the tower window.

 Terezi hit the windowsill with an impact that was sure to leave bruises, as she looked down at the falling pirate. With elegance only the most devilish of hell's spawned monstrosities could exhibit, she slipped into the sea far below, and Terezi saw her swim towards a pitch black ship, faintly outlined in the darkness by the moon's glow.

 Terezi gripped the windowsill hard, so hard that her fingers bled, and her entire body shook. She couldn't even begin to show emotion on her face, as the pain, frenzy and mania exploded within her, a supernova and pure, murderous intent.

 She would end the reign of Vriska Serket.

 Or she would die trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WROTE EVERYTING AFTER "the sounds of the party getting louder" IN 3 HOURS AND I HAVENT TOUCHED THIS FIC IN AGES HOW DID I DO THATS IM A MACHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINEEEE


	4. She Was Vriska Fucking Serket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terezi catches up to her prey.

 It had been eleven years.

Hell had broken loose after Serket's plunder of the tower treasury. Hundreds of ships were set loose to find the pirate and bring her head to Her Imperious Condescension on a pike. Thousands of men were dispatched from ports, thousands of weapons brought from production, and dozens more ships built; all to fuel the war between the Empire and the single Pirate who dared plunder the royal treasury, so close to Her Condescensions presence. 

Arch-commodore Pyrope was given power and jurisdiction she had only even dreamed off, the Empress willing to grant her one last chance to bring down her nemesis. She had almost the entire navy at her disposal. With a single message, she could have a hundred fully armed, trained ships heading to wherever she said. AN entirely new ship was built for her, a vessel near the size of the Empress' but built for war more for luxury. Its size was like something from a myth, and the sheer number of cannons poking from the portholes could rain lead death upon anything Terezi chose. The volley had never been tested, due to the simple cost of such a barrage, but it had already been named "The Pyre".

 The sheer force of a singe order made her almost dizzy with excitement at first, but the hatred and determination took back over in short order. She had a grudge more powerful than any ever seen with Serket, and she intended to make true to her uttered promise.

 No matter how hard it would be, her mind was set, and so she forced the hand of destiny in the direction she chose.  

 The pirate hadn't been seen all that much for the last few years, save for the occasional firefight with a vessel that happened upon them. Which they always won, even when there were two, or even three ships versus her one.

 She had simply disappeared from the world, so stealthy and subtle in her moves that tracing her whereabouts became near impossible. Any place she passed through was either too scared to give out anything, or they had their tongues cut from their mouths. Terezi could get near nothing on her plans. She was after something. That was all. Just a scrap of information that the lone, sane survivor of attacks could muster. What she was after was a mystery, and the Pyrope had a hundred researchers on the case at all times. Archeologists, scientists, generals, cartographers, and a dozen more trades, all working together to try and find what had caught the sight of the Pirate. 

 The most descriptive things where the stories that sprung up in her wake. Killing a dozen men in a sword fight without an inch of effort. Forcing squadrons of gunmen to their knees with just her sheer willpower. Pillaging, burning and taking whatever struck her fancy. Gold, booze, weapons, livestock, stocks for the ship, and occasionally entire brothels worth of women. 

 That last one had brought a bitter smirk to the Pyrope's face when she first heard it. She had no doubt the Serket didn't have to use threats or mind control to make them go with her. She was a bewitching temptress from the pits of Tartarus.

 All of what she had done added up to one thing, however. Despite the Empire's best attempts to stop it, Vriska Serket became a legend across the seas. Just seeing her flag atop the black ship with blue sails was enough to make some towns surrender. She had become a true equal to Terezi. Their reputations were two dragons set against each other in a blazing struggle. Who would win?

 Terezi intended to find that out quite soon, as for once, in her eleven years of circumventing and sidestepping the entire armada, she had made a mistake.   
Vriska Serket had made a mistake.

 Terezi knew exactly where she was headed. All because she let her lips get too loose over a bottle of vodka with a whore in her arms. A whore she had deigned to let live with her immeasurable benevolence. She spoke of ancient legends, dark rituals, temples form before time, and cultures thought long dead. With her army of researchers, it didn't take the Pyrope long to find out what it was.

 She was after power. Not any ordinary power, however. It was the supernatural, like the power she held in her head. Disgusting and black majyk of the foulest kind, from the demons of the jungle peoples' myths. Majyk that would let her surpass all others and become the most dreaded, vicious and potent pirate that had ever sailed the waves. 

 She wanted to become a Pirate Queen.  
  


 Vriska Serket was where she always wanted to be: right at the helm of her ship, leading it through the stormy waves of the churning, violent ocean, as salt-water sprayed across her face, and the wind blew hale into her eyes. 

 She laughed as a crack of lightning flashed before them, striking down into the depths of the water. The roll of thunder that came next was enough to shake the very ship that they stood on, and Vriska just heard yells of surprise and alarm from her crew, between the constant screaming of orders and reports. Her underlings where scurrying around the deck, working double-time to make sure the ship didn't capsize, or the brigging snapped, or any other tragedy occur.

 Vriska laughed as she saw some of them slip and slide along the soaked deck. She took control of a few as she wrestled with the helm, performing the essential tasks that the others had missed. She had single-handedly saved the ship at least nine times, and they were only in the storm an hour halved. 

 A wave crashed into the side of the ship, sending a shudder through it, as many men wee thrown back by the force of the water, smacking against crates and barrels fighting to be free of their restraints. She saw a cannon roll back on its wheels, freed by the turmoil, and, during a great tilt of the ship, speed down to crush one of the fallen. There was a sudden scream cut short. Vriska cackled.

 Another crack of lightning, and the clouds above were illuminated, set free from the confines of the darkened sky for just a moment to her. As Vriska looked up, her mouth in a wide, jovial smile, she could swear she saw clouds with shapes like faces, staring down at her. Perhaps the gods of the sea, judging her actions, deciding her fate. Fate. She spat, and tipped her hat to the skies in mockery. 

 She hated fate.

 A few more crashes of the waves hit, and Vriska managed her crew with all her effort. She had never been in a storm like this, as it threatened to tear apart the very being of her ship, rip it into a thousand pieces of at once, like a pot shot by eight pistols at once. She wondered how her girls in the captains quarters where taking it.

 With another crack of lightning, she laughed. Their company would be just the finish this long leg of the expedition needed.

 But then, all at once, the storm ceased. The ship leaned back to level, and the water flowed off in rivets into calm waters. Vriska covered her eyes with her arm at the sudden burst of sunlight that assailed her. She could hear confused shouts from her crew, followed by whoops and cries of celebration. Looking about, Vriska found her ship was in a large circular area of water, surrounded by a raging storm, a cyclone which looked almost as intimidating on the outside as it had been inside. She looked inwards from the storm, and found an island standing proud, steep, treacherous cliffs coming out of the water. Vast jungles covered the tops, and just above them, almost out of view at their angle, a circular wreath of white cloud, spinning perfectly.

 She had made it to the eye of the storm, the sacred lands spoke of in a thousand tales. Passed from generation to generation from the descendants of the ancient people to encountered these lands first-hand, the tales were often thought to be simple fantasy, never investigated before now save for crackpots and those with nothing left to lose.

 Vriska was neither of those. And she had found it. She let herself have a moment for a victorious laugh that rose above her crew, before snapping back into her captain self, screaming commands for those below. They all jumped to attention, terrified by just the sound of her voice. 

 She raised an eyebrow at the few corpses that were scattered about the deck, some drowned, others dead by impacts to the head, and one particularly gory corpse crushed by a loose canon. They were an eyesore.

 "TOSS THE DEAD OVERBOARD!" She yelled out, before looking back to her destination, her dream. 

 Ever since she was a small girl she had aspired for this. To claim the treasures found within the hidden Makara isles for herself, and to rise as the Queen of Pirates. Once she had gotten older she had dismissed them, and instead set her sights on more attainable goals.

 She spent years rising up the ranks, proving that she was ruthless, powerful, and not the be fucked with. She had burned, mutilated and orphaned more than she could count, but she did it. Just to get to what she thought was the top of the hierarchy.

 But then the obsessive dreams began, telling her of untold fortune and power. She resisted then for the longest time, as she was not a woman to follow phantasmal visions borne in her head. But even her will was broken eventually, and she answered. They led her to an abandoned church, in an old colonial town. 

 Her men thought she was a fool to search for treasure in a town so barren that a desert would be more interesting. One had even said it to her face, so she gladly removed his.

 But she dug beneath the ground, and found a journal. She spent hours upon hours decoding its infinite writings, and found within the stories of her youth, but there was no vagueness to them. Dates, names, places, it was all there. And in the most scribbled upon page, was the description of the Circlet of The Sea. With it, and the power it possessed, she was sure to rise and subjugate all who stood in her way. Her dream could be fulfilled.

 Something had chose her to become their champion, to find the Circlet and its jewels, and imbue them with power at the ancient shrine of the God of Madness. Something had seen fit to make her more powerful than anything else, and given her the power to slay her rivals and rise up. And eventually, she would slay it too.

 And now it was time. 

 She stopped the ship almost a hundred meters from shore, letting the rowboats drop. She was on the first boat over, and the first to hit the shore.

 It was a small beach, with sand so fine and so glistening in the light she thought it might be a liquid. She dragged her hand through it all, watching as it slipped back into the trench she dug. If only the places she sought a rest in had sand such as this. 

 With a grunt, she gave a a swinging kick to the sand, and watched the spit fall. She turned to her men, who were hauling cargo from the boats at a rapid pace, quickened by her hard stare. Ropes, picks, ladders, axes, oil, torches, gunpowder, and, of course, rum. She drunk down half a bottle as she hoisted a great coil of rope up onto her shoulder, helping her men get it all out.

 Now was not the time to bask in her station. She had some things to do.   
 

 "Arch-commodore, are you sure you wish for us to sail right into the storm?"

 "Yes."  
  


 The jungle started only a few minutes after they set off.

 It was through what looked like a once well-trodden path up from the beach. The sand turned to clay, as the crew walked into a cave in the cliff face. Although it seemed long and dark, sunlight glinted at the end. At the end of the tunnel they found themselves surrounded by trees, and stepping on a great thicket of foliage. Vriska sneered, and set out, stepping into the uncharted wilderness, that no one had set foot in for hundreds of years.

 She was wary of whatever creatures where about, aware that in such a revered and isolated land, there was a chance some undiscovered form of life stalked, its lethalities many and its weaknesses few. She didn't let this nagging anxiety slip to her crew, however. They were a tad too thick to think of it, and letting their mind go to a place of fear of that proportion was just foolish. They were fearful enough of snakes as it was.

 Speaking of such a creature, Vriska heard a hiss just at her ankle. Her reflexes jumped into overdrive as she whipped her sword from its scabbard, and stepped back. With one swift cleave, she severed the striking vipers neck, watching as its head sailed off to land before her crew. She chuckled.

 Although she was a terrifying figure of ruthlessness and moral flexibility, who could turn on her crew as quickly as a gunshot, her strength and speed relived her crew. They found a feeling of safety just being near someone who competent. It was how she preferred it. 

 The jungle was much longer than she would have liked it to be, and she was sweating and tired of the humid, near boiling air. A few members of her crew had already thrown up. Bored, she tossed a knife into the canopy above and she watched as a monkey fell, the silver blade buried in its chest. Kneeling down to free the valuable weapon from its tiny, shattered ribcage, she noticed something.

 "Hold!" She yelled out.

 She quickly clawed away at the roots and plants that had grown at her feet, and raised an eyebrow as she found clean cut stone beneath. 

 "Clear the ground!"

 Her crew began immediately, and within five minutes enough of the plants and dirt had been cleared away to reveal a great stone foundation, covered in carvings and inscriptions in the old tongue.

 She read them fluently.

 "The path will be bequeathed with the blood of the champion, the seeker, the devil. Only the devil and angel may pass." She grunted. "Doesn't rhyme in english."

 Wondering who the hell "the angel" was supposed to b, she noticed a small hole at the centre of the foundation, with the runes for "blood sacrifice".

 Wiping clean the knife on her coat, she decided she might as well indulge the ancients. Without much dramatics, she let the knife slide down her palm, and watched as it dripped down into the hole. "Better fucking do something." She muttered. 

 After a tantalising second, there was a a great sound of shifting rock behind her. The crew and her watched in awe as the ground opened up, roots snapping as a gap was revealed, and a staircase downwards letting itself be known to them. A great bellow of dust flew up. She coughed and waved her hand in front of her face, letting a few choice curses out.

 Looking around at her crew, she shrugged. "Let's go."

 She began forward, stepping carefully on each step, half expecting it to give way beneath her, dropping her into a pit of snakes, spikes or some unmentionable horror. But after only a short while, she was at the bottom of the steps and in a long tunnel. She beckoned her crew after, and started to creep town the dark chute.

 There was a scream behind her, and Vriska spun around to find the first member of her crew on the stairs, hit foot impaled by a  spike that had shot up. He cried out in surprise and pain, before a number of blades swung up from between the steps, meeting just where he stood. She didn't react as the blades cut clean through him, rendering his body a bloody, dozen-part mess. 

 She ignored the sudden bouts of vomiting by her crew as she called out.

 "It seems only I can venture forward... guard the entrance." There were a few groaned acknowledgements of her order. She decided to let the lack of enthusiasm slide, just this one time.

 The tunnel was long, almost unbearable so. She felt like she was walking for near ten minutes by the time she saw a crack of sunlight up ahead. She had long ago given up creeping, and instead brazenly walked through, realising that, with the sophistication of their traps, if they wanted her dead no amount of stealth would save her. 

 The crack of sunlight was a single slit that, as she approached, she realised was the space between two stone doors.

 With a great heave, she pulled one open, hearing ancient hinges creak for the first time in centuries. She was glad to have a sudden rush of fresh air, even if it was humid and hot. It beat the stale odour of death and faeces that was ever-present in the tunnel. She was almost glad her crew couldn't come with her, as she didn't want to deal with their vomit giving an additional smell to deal with.

 Stepping out into a clearing, Vriska looked around, and her mouth fell open.

 A massive temple stood before her, proud and ancient, its glory and archaic venerability shining out radiant. Massive blocks of grey stone formed a massive set of pyramids, linking up to each other with bridges and corridors. Dozens of statues of animals were scattered about at a near alarming frequency. She could see even from a distance that, in their hay day, they were more beautiful than anything the empire of today could make. 

 Vast beams of sunlight shined over the entire thing, as no trees stood near it, and even from where she stood, she could tell the view was beautiful, overlooking the entire island, and the waters before the storm. Looking up, she could see the circular halo of cloud that resided over it. She was here.

 Holding the hilt of her sword tight, and taking in the intricate, worn and overgrown beauty of the temple, Vriska set forward.  
 

 The Arch-commodore was almost regretting entering the storm when she finally burst through the other side. She didn't wait a moment before ordering her crew around, keeping their momentum forward as they approached an idyllic looking island not far off. 

 Terezi wondered where Serket's ship was, as it was not in sight. From the look of the storm, in its great cyclonic shape, she may have been at the other side of the island. It was an inconvenience, admittedly. Terezi couldn't simply subject her ship to the barrage and let Serket starve to death of the accursed island. Although, coming to think of it, she probably wouldn't do that anyway. She wanted to savour digging the blade through the pirate's chest.

 "Get those boats in the water!"

 The trip up to the jungle wasn't that long, as there was a winding path up from the beach that carried them high. It did leave some of the more burdened of her men panting, but she had a hundred more to replace them should any fall. There were two entire squadrons of men with naught but weaponry, their only objective to fire at whatever looked threatening. But leave the Serket to the Arch-Commodore.

 The jungle trip wasn't long, as within five minutes there was a gunshot, and the soldier to Terezi's left fell, his shoulder thrown back by a bullet. The next few minutes where a blur. War cries were deafening, as where the volley of gunshots, as Terezi charged forward, sword drawn. She sliced through pirate after pirate, their blood coming out in sprays. 

 Within another five minutes they were all dead. Terezi wiped the blood, both theirs and hers, from her face. She stretched and watched as her men secured the perimeter. While the fight had cost her a dozen or so men, it had confirmed what she wanted. The Serket was here.

 She couldn't keep the grin off her face.

 "Arch-Commodore, it appears that they were guarding this tunnel. I believe its likely the pirate is down there." One of her officers informed her. She nodded.

 "Let's go."

 She walked down the steps without pause, getting into the tunnel before any of her men could even get on the first step. But the moment they did, she heard tortured screams. She cringed at the sight that followed, the blood, the gore. She watched as endless torrents of red flowed down the steps to her feet.

 "No one else come down!" She yelled out. "Something tells me Serket was the only one who got down as well." She brandished her sword. "I'll deal with her myself."

 This was how it was supposed to be, she could feel it.

 Her time was drawing close.  
  


 Vriska kept her sword at the ready as she stalked through the door of the ancient temple. She stepped over the endless overgrown vines, making sure she didn't trip up and slice herself on her sword. That would have been an embarrassing end to her tale. When she was so close, too.

 The ancient halls were filled with art, sculptures, carvings, jewellry and pots so beautiful and so old it evoked deep emotions in her, different from those the crafters had intended, she was sure. Some vines were holding together the ancient pillars that were inscribed with stories of ages past, some of which she knew she was the only living person to know. These were the remnants of a civilisation fallen ages before the empire was even founded. 

 She held her breath as she reached the top of the temple, after a lengthy stairway up. She felt tears come to her eyes as she gazed upon growths of crystals and gems she was sure would make her richer than the entire empire itself if she could do away with all of them. She looked once more to the circlet in her hand. Who knew, maybe she could.

 She glanced to the centre, before doing a double take. It was an altar, made of pure gold. The Altar of Kurloz. She knew it from every tale of the ancients. It was the centre pillar of their every myth. It was the most direct line to the power of the gods to ever exist. And it was the place where she would ascend to Queen of Pirates. 

 Her entire body was buzzing with anticipation. It was right there, everything she had worked so long for. Over fifteen fucking years of searching. She had started just as she turned twenty, and now she was in her mid thirties, a thousand places higher that before in every aspect. She had went from expert swordswoman, to master of the blade. Her mind control had evolved from begin able to control one individual, two if they were particularly stupid, to having entire squads of trained soldiers bend to the knee to her if she so wished. She wasn't the little girl who would blush every time she passed the brothel anymore. She wasn't the girl who would fall down when she had her nose cracked open by a drunkard. 

 Looking at the circlet of extraordinary supernatural power in her hand, and at the massive, unimaginably ancient temple around her, constructed by the Gods themselves, she knew who she was.

 She was Vriska Fucking Serket, and it was her time to shine.

 Stepping forward, she held the circlet out in front of her. She felt an invisible pull tug gently on it, which grew to a strong wrench as she got right up to the gold surface. Letting go, she watched the circlet float serenely, the light of the sun reflecting off it a thousand unique and beautiful ways. The gems she had set carefully into it glowed brightly too, not reflecting light, but instead absorbing it, before giving themselves a glow of their own. 

 Vriska reached out to touch the floating piece of jewellry, but snapped her hand back, the heat burning her immediately. 

 There was a rumble above. The pirate looked up to the expanse of the sky, and her eyes went wide as a spectacle unfolded above her. The sky itself was dimming, turning from its beautiful blue to a grey, then slowly to a pitch black. Not even the stars lit the perfectly dark void above her. 

 There was another rumble, when suddenly a thousand lights exploded, as one thousand colourful outlines of eyes came into being above her, each pupil directed right at her. Every hair stood on end, and Vriska felt some deep, primal terror within her, staring up at the monstrous amount of eyes that gazed at her with hatred, malice, curiosity, and some even with pride. She understand what they were. They were the thousand eyes of the Mad God, Kurloz. This was the final hurdle. She was being judged by the root of insanity.

 Barely-there whisperings were fluttering around her, letting their foul false promises be known to her, speaking her praise with reverence and worship, or hurling insults of vicious caliber, taken from pits of Vriska's mind not a living person knew. She tightened her grip on her sword, as a fierce anger sparked up in her.

 "Is that our fucking challenge? Some fucking whispers! Give me something to fight! Give me pain! Give me a fucking challenge!" She screamed out, looking at as many eyes as she could. 

 There was a deep, guttural laughter from the air around her as the whispers heightened, all joining the chorus of giggles, cackles and bellows. Vriska pivoted frantically, her sword waving in her hand, her other hand flexing in anticipation and raw adrenaline. Shivers ran down her spine, but where ignored, as the laughter became horrific screeches suddenly, before cutting out completely.

 "Very well." They said.

 "SERKET!"  
 

 Terezi snarled the name as she pointed the pistol at her nemesis, wanting to see her face when she died. Just as she pulled the trigger, the hammer falling, her arm was caught, and thrown off course. The bullet fired, but missed. 

 "NO!" Terezi turned to whatever had grabbed her arm, and she felt terror fill her, as a 6'5 monster with grey skin and warpaint across its face leered down at her, before cackling maniacally.

 In one swift motion, Terezi spun, ducking under the arm of the demonic creature, bring up her other arm to strike hard at the exposed elbow. The arm snapped with a satisfying sound, and the creature stumbled away. It whined like a kicked dog. Terezi snarled, reaching for the second pistol at her waste, tossing the other aside. 

 In a split second, the whine turned to laughter, and the Arch-Commodore was horrified to see the arm snap back into place, as the creature charged her again. With startling speed, it batted away her aiming arm, before landing her a sickening and arduous punch to the stomach, sending her back several feet to land hard against the stone. 

 She grunted in pain as she rolled back, about to aim her pistol once more, before she saw the beast ready itself. In a moment of cunning, she feigned an aim, while reaching for her blade. Just as the creature once again bat away her arm, a painful whack with its shin, she lashed out with her cutlass. 

 The blade sliced across the grey skin with ease, cutting deep enough just under the ribs to tear into the stomach, and she watched as thick purple blood flowed out. The creature stumbled back, holding its bleeding wounds. It looked at her with cruel eyes, before another insane cackle came to its torn lips, from between maws of needle teeth. The Arch-commodore took a step back as it approached again. 

 It shouldn't have been able to survive that wound, Terezi thought, as it lashed out with another powerful punch. She barely managed to parry it, feeling the incredible strength the muscles of the beast held. 

 In an action of pure frustration, irrational and uncontrolled, Terezi screamed at the creature, not even preparing another attack. The demon responded by leaning forward and letting out a guttural howl that would haunt the dreams of whoever heard it. Her head began to swim with its sorcery infused scream, but not enough to sway her arm as she suddenly raised her pistol, aiming right between the eyes.

 The moment of shock on the monster's face was a sweet pleasure as she pulled the trigger. The bullet blew through its skull, letting a massive spurt of purple blood out, spreading its brains across the stone.

 She watched in horror as it continued to scramble around, not even slain by that attack. But its eyes and sense were destroyed, and its twitchy spasms and random swings told her that it wasn't a threat.

 Taking deep breaths, she returned her focus to normal, taking in the rest of the world again, and shock took her.

 There were dozens of the creatures, and they were fighting each other.  
  


 Vriska had seen the Makara the moment she turned, and had been far more afraid of it that she had the pistol aimed literally at her face. She screamed in pain as the bullet skimmed her left eye, tearing through it just enough render it blind. Despite the nigh unbearable pain, she brought her blade up, and immediately spun, swinging for the source of the stamping vibrations she felt through her boots. 

 Her sword bit into the side of the Makara's face, letting purple blood spill. Without savouring the cleanness of the cut, she wrenched it towards her, dragging the demon with her. She pulled herself up, bringing up a knee to slam into it's face, freeing the sword simultaneously. She spun in the air, swinging her sword in a long line until the tip dragged right across the eyes of the recoiling Makara. 

 A line of purple blood followed her blade as the eyes were ruined in the jester-ish painted face of the demon. Infernal jesters. 

 The creature reared back and screamed, tilting its head back for a perfect opening. Not wasting the chance; Vriska brought down her sword, impaling right through the mouth, the blade continuing down into the torso. Twitches and spasms began in the creature, and the pirate ripped out her sword.

 Seeing another one approach her as she did so, Vriska let the blade keep its momentum, sending it into the air as she pulled the two pistol from her belt, letting loose two shots at once. She smiled as the Makara's face was deconstructed right in front of her. 

 Letting the pistols drop to her sides, Vriska looked around. It was amazing. There were about two dozen of the demons just in her sight, and they were fighting as hard as they could with whatever was near. She watched two tear literal chunks from each other, just in time to see an arm, torn right from a socket with an incredible feat of strength, sail overhead. Another one was simply punching a pillar again and again with all its strength, shattering the stone, and slowly rendering its hands bloody mangled messes in the process.

 Vriska cackled loudly, finding beauty in the unending violence and brutality of the children of the god of madness. She looked up to the sky.

 "THANK YOU!"

 The one eyed-woman charged into the fray, ignoring the woman who had pursued her for 11 years. 

 With wild and furious sword strikes, she rendered their flesh parted and their blood spilled. With a scream of delight, she ducked and dodged their punches, knowing that one of them connecting could shatter bones. With a spin and flourish, she severed a hand, and drew a pistol from within her coat. She winked at the monster as she pulled the trigger, and felt purple blood splatter across her face. 

 Not pausing, she dropped to one knee, ducking under a wide kick of the Makara right before her. She kept her momentum as she sliced her cutlass across its leg, and raised herself back to her feet. Keeping the spin going, she felt the mighty beast fall to one knee, before the sword sliced through its neck, completely severing its head. She basked in the glorious fountain of blood as her jacket whipped around from the sudden stop.

 She heard a grunt from behind her, and turned, raising her sword just in time to deflect the mad strike of the Arch-Commodore, Terezi Pyrope.   
  


 Terezi screamed in a blood-fulled rage as she launched attack after attack, each swing and stab of the cutlass just deflected by the pirate. She snarled and kept up the offense, her attacks more aggressive than ever. The clash of steel became quicker than a woodpeckers morning session. Vriska was laughing in front of her, and with the whip of her rage renewed, she sped up even more. The tips of their swords were just getting through on both sides, as cuts were opened up on their limbs and faces, but they ignored it all. 

 Terezi felt her heart snap as realisation dawned over her. Vriska was gaining the upper hand. She had her moves planned ahead, and with the layout of the battle, she had cornered her without her realising. Only two dozen more strikes and she would have a perfect strike.

 But before this could happen, a demon ran over, screaming, and launched a mighty punch at Vriska. The Serket seemed to panic, as she dodged the punch, leaning backwards, and leaving her sword arm completely exposed.

 With a ear-piercing shriek, Terezi slashed downwards. The cutlass cut clean through the flesh, and with her rage-fueled strength, the bone too. In a split second, a movement too quick for any but the most trained mind to see, Terezi Pyrope cut free the arm of Vriska Serket.  
 

 Vriska fell back. She couldn't think. Blood was spraying out the stump of her arm. This was it. Everything was flashing through her mind at once. She hit the ground hard. 

 Terezi was right on front of her, fighting the Makara. The Makara.

 Turning over to her front, Vriska began to crawl, snatching up her fallen sword. With one arm, she pulled herself towards the altar. Her mind was getting weaker, as blood left her body, a long trail of it behind her.

 She couldn't die. Not yet. Not now.

 She crawled father forward, each pull a challenge unto itself. She couldn't even hear the fighting of the Makara's any longer, nor their inhuman screams. Even her body was becoming numb as she reached the altar. With a weak, breathless gasp, she put the tip of the sword into the beam of light around the circlet, and watched as the blade began to glow red almost immediately. 

 She couldn't die. Not yet.

 She pulled it out, and pressed it against the stump. She didn't even feel the burn, as it seared shut, and her arms lost their strength. She could faintly see that the bleeding stopped. But it was too late. Her strength was gone. Her blood was pooled around her, trailed across the top of the temple of madness. She was dying. She turned to look up at the circlet, glowing in all its glory. It stopped floating. It... It was finished.

 She couldn't die.

 With one final push, Vriska reached out, grabbing the ice cold circlet, and forcing it onto her head, before she collapsed. 

 She gasped as her senses became hyperaware, as her every nerve exploded with sensation. Her eyesight sharpened to better than it had ever been, and her hearing could hear a ringing bell form the Arch-commodores ship far below.

 The ship.   
  


 Terezi snarled as she finished tearing apart the demon. With a heavy breath, she looked over to the blood trail left by Vriska. She followed it, to see what looked like the corpse of the upcoming Pirate Queen, lying in a pool of her own blood. She sighed in relief. It was over.

 She went to turn, to run out of the temple, and escape the madness and bloodshed of the demons, before something caught her eye.

 There, atop the head of Vriska Serket, was the Circlet. Her eyes shot open. Terezi didn't make a sound as she suddenly sprinted towards the pirate, raising her sword to end it once and for all, before it all went wrong.

 There was a sound that couldn't be. It just... no. It was like the roaring of a hundred lions coupled with rolling thunder. She knew what it was. But surely... she couldn't have.

 She did.

 Terezi looked to the sky, and paled to see the barrage. The Pyre. It was flying towards her, the entire barrage. Several hundred cannonballs. 

 "Hey bitch!" She heard behind her.

 She didn't have time to react before the blazing hot blade was brought to her eyes, the red hot steel burning her eyes immediately. She fell back, completely blind, and could only listen as Vriska laughed. Then The Pyre hit.

 It was like a shockwave from a volcano, a powerful unrelenting force that devastated anything before it, and bellowed destruction in its wake. It was a miracle that she wasn't hit dead on, but the shattering of the blocks around her, each impact a shockwave in its own right, the blistering hot chips of lead and stone, burning, acrid smoke... none of that was particularly comfortable. 

 It was a hell to be subjected to. The raw destructive power, being thrown about by a dozen explosions, and the burning of her flesh. Terezi was a ragdoll in a cannon. She felt more bones break than she could count in the five seconds of terror and chaos. It was hell.

 By the time everything had settled, she was in a chamber in the middle of the temple. Dust was so thick in the air that she could barely breath. Her leg was shattered and trapped under a chunk of rock. Her right arm was contorted in a way no arm should be. She spat out a few teeth, and took raspy breaths, whining from the pain of her broken rib.

 "Fuck..." She whined out.

 There was a sound from only a bit away to her left, it sounded as though there was a wall blocking it.

 "Fuck indeed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one took me one more hour than expected.  
> i was actually writing faster than normal, but turns out it was just gonna be a long chapter  
> i thought it was actually going to be shorter  
> oh well  
> but yeah 6.4k in 4 hours?  
> thats 1.6k per hour  
> no bad  
> not bad at all  
> anyway yeah enjoy this angrsty shit  
> sorry if the quality dropped compared to the last one  
> im tired  
> and i definintely need sleep


	5. I'd Kill You The Moment I Got The Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> .Vriska and Terezi wait to die the in the ruins of their battle.

 

 Terezi groaned as she recognised the voice of the pirate from beyond the wall of rubble. She sounded as battered and bruised as Terezi was, and she started coughing the moment she made her presence known. The Pyrope was about to be in a hell worse than the bloody explosion.

 "Why can't you have died?"

 The Serket chuckled, before she coughed again, the sound wet and painful. "I got luck on my side, baby!" She rasped over, before she kept laughing.

 "Then you are the only one."

 Terezi was sure that if luck was truly real, then it had it in for her in a major way. She had the pirate lined up in her sights at the climatic moment, before monsters she thought existed only in children's tales and the myths of destitute natives of the colonies. Then, after her own ship had fired a colossal barrage right at her position, she was stuck within earshot of the woman who had remained just out of her chasing grasp for over ten years.

 "Them's the breaks."

 Terezi raised an eyebrow at the phrase. "What?"

 "Nevermind." The pirate laughed again, before she groaned.

 They sat in silence, as Terezi felt blood drip down from her nose, bleeding from the cut across her forehead from a chunk of rock that had been propelled by the impact. She sneered at the feel of the halved brick that was crushing her leg, keeping her completely trapped. Her shattered arm by her side exploded in unbearable pain every time she tried to move. She couldn't even hope to escape.

 "So..." The pirate started after a few minutes, punctuated by nothing but coughing and pained groans. "How's your sitch?"

 Terezi raised an eyebrow at the question, her hatred of the pirate still burning within her. "Why the hell do you care?"

 "Cause I'm fucking bored. I'm bleeding to death here, after all." The pirate yelled over.

 The Pyrope shook her head, cringing at the stiffness in her neck. She lifted her unbroken arm, covered in scratches and burns, and pulled a strand of blood-drenched hair from where it poked into her blind eyes. Even her fingers hurt to move, some having been broken by falling rubble.

 She groaned, but decided to indulge the whims of the last person she would speak to before she died.

 "Arm broken in a couple dozen pieces... Crushed leg, probably a broken rib or two, covered in blood and in quite a bit of pain. Also I'm blind now."

 "Damn, that sucks." She said, monotone, before bursting out in laughter, interrupted by rampant, pained coughing. "Oh, fucking hell." Terezi heard her mutter after the coughing died down, and she spat.

 "Yeah. How's yours?"

 Vriska seemed to take a moment to asses her situation before responding.

 "Well, I'm missing an eye and an arm. I think those are kinda the most noticeable issues here."

 Terezi grinned despite herself, caught by the pirate's wit. "I'd say so... what else you got?"

 "Bit of my cheek is torn out, missing a finger from my right... my only hand, and there is a chunk of what I imagine to be Makara bone lodged in my stomach."

 Terezi nodded at that, the name jogging her memory to what the creatures that had attacked her had been. Her research team had told her of them once or twice, although she had dismissed them most of the time, seeing them as naught but fantasy. They were servants of the God of Madness, his purpleblooded jesters and harlequins whose only desire was to cause chaos, bloodshed and revelry. They were among the most powerful of any god's servants. And she had killed two. Not bad.

  "It's bleeding quite a bit actually. There's a big ass block lying over my thighs. Also my blood is blue now."

 "What?" Terezi furrowed her brows, turning her head towards the sound of the pirate's voice. She was sure she had misheard.

 "I got blue blood." There was an excited gasp, then a coughing fit. "I think this means I'm royalty now!" She was engaging in another bout of laughing/coughing.

 "You're fucking with me." Terezi snapped, turning her head away in disinterest in what she imagined was just a teasing jest by the cruel corsair.

 "Now why would I do that?" Serket whined.

 "Gee let me fucking think!" She snarled, anger suddenly flaring within her.

 Vriska was silent for a while, except for the occasional cough or spit. Terezi ran her tongue around her mouth, feeling where her missing teeth had come from. Three were from the front, and there was a molar. It would be unsightly in the mirror if she would survive, or if she could see. That was going to need some getting used to. She sighed, before she spat some blood across whatever compartment of space she was in.

 "Is someone feeling melancholic?" The pirate asked, sounding ever more bored than before.

 "Fuck off." She hissed.

 "Alright then fine... just want some bloody company before I die." The pirate sighed herself.

 "Should have died in a whorehouse then."

 There was a snort, then a horrendous sound as she hacked out her lungs. "You got wit."

 "Likewise."

 "Wished you'd have used it at the party though... I won far too easily."

 Terezi bared her teeth, furrowing her brows. "Won?"

 "Won, yes." She had smugness in her voice. "You were head over heels with me before ol' Condy showed up to ruin my fun."

 "Is that really what you think?" She sneered.

 "It's what I know is true." The Serket state simply. "No matter how shrewd and willful you are, I can read you like a book."

 There was a while in which neither of them spoke. Terezi ground her teeth and clenched her fists. She didn't want to admit it, even to herself, but the Serket had come out on top of that encounter. She had strings on Terezi's heart, and had pulled them in every direction and forced it to dance for her.

 "I liked what I read." Vriska said after a moment, her usual sadism absent form her voice, just a playful lilt to her voice.

 Terezi snarled. "Don't you dare try and use your wicked charm on me, witch!"

 "So I'm charming... nice to know."

 There was another long pause of silence, and neither of them spoke, and Terezi savoured the freedom from the teases of the pirate.  


 Vriska wasn't what she would call comfortable, at that very moment. In fact, she was in extreme pain. She had definitely breathed in something that would have been best left outside of her system, not to mention the injuries that covered her body. Although the coughing was the most annoying. Sharp stings were plentiful in the coughing fits that racked her every time she spoke. She couldn't even amuse herself with teasing without feeling pain.

 Blood was dripping down her face, blue, just as she described, as it dripped from the wound in her midsection. The Circlet must have done more than just make her control over the mortal mind more powerful. The blue blood was a shock, but she had to admit she liked it. Set her above the mortals, she thought. Would probably lend itself her legends.

 Speaking of the accursed thing, she glanced over to where it lay, just a few feet away. She didn't need it anymore, she knew that. It was a one charge spell, and had imbued all its energy into her, making her the chosen champion. She would probably keep it, however, once she survived. A little trophy, or a memoir, of the penultimate event.

 She just had to get out of here first. She looked down to the massive chunk of stone lying across her with her one remaining eye. It was cracked and covered in dust and blood, blue and purple both. Yeah, she doubted she would have been able to lift that with both her arms in working, fit condition. With one tired, bruised and pained arm it was a fantasy to lift.

 She decided to admire the blue blood for a bit. She wondered if the colour was chosen specifically for her. She did like it, after all. Although seeing her blood that hue was a bit unsettling. Especially with it dripping from a mangled, partially filled eye socket.

 Losing an eye was also pretty fucked, she had to admit. She knew her luck made it an eye and not her brain, but she couldn't help but frown at the loss, until something occurred to her.

 "Wait do I get to wear an eyepatch now?" She called out. It was supposed to be a question to herself, but she had forgotten about the company on the other side of the wall. She had no idea how she managed that.

 "I... I guess." The Commodore sounded surprised more than anything. But her bite came back in her next sentence. "Couldn't you have done that anyway? I don't think anyone would stop you."

 "Yeah, but then it wouldn't be legitimate, you know?" She shrugged to herself, and regretted the agonizing action immediately. After a gasp she continued explaining. "It would be like tying your leg bent and attaching a pegleg to the knee. What's the point?"

 "Why do you expect me to know?" Terezi shot back. "You're the one who was excited about a bloody eye-patch."

 That was true. And Vriska laughed quite a bit at it. She really had to stop laughing; it was excuriating every single time.

 "I just enjoy my style, what can I say?"

 "Nothing would be preferable."

 "Harsh."

 "I like my silence, what can I say?" That was a bite.

 Vriska didn't say anything as she thought, and found the Commodore didn't speak either. She was very much leading the conversation here. But where to lead it? Might as well be somewhere fun.

 "I was right to accept that dance."

 "Pardon?"

 "At the party. I don't regret taking your hand to the floor one bit."

 "And why is that?" She heard the Pyrope hiss.

 "Made everything considerably more dramatic and heroic."

 "You consider yourself the hero in this tale?" She heard a sneer.

 "You don't have to be a hero to be referred to as heroic. Just gotta do a heroic thing or two."

"And what are the heroic acts Miss Serket wishes to complete, hm? Slaughtering villages? Emptying brothels?"

 "Ending the tyranny of the Empire, and letting beautiful, free anarchy reign, the only guidance the hand of the benevolent Pirate Queen." She revealed, tilting her head back to rest against a small jut of rubble behind her.

 "The tyranny is your slaughter, Serket."

 "I slaughter colonisers, those who have committed atrocities against my people."

 Terezi fell silent. As she expected, she was ashamed of the Empire's actions. Anyone with a shred of empathy would be, when confronted by one of the few survivors of an entire people.

 "You don't have to be a hero to do heroic things, and time and time again, the ends justify the means." She spat out a glob of blue blood. "I'm sure you of all people understand that."

 Vriska decided to continue in the wake of the Pyropes extent of silence.

 "You understand my actions, as much as you loathe to admit it. After all, there was a reason I said I didn't regret that dance."

 "What was it?" A weak voice came through.

 Vriska tried to put on a vicious tone, or a smug one, or anything that put her on top. But instead her tone was something pitiful.

 "You and I are more alike to each other than we are to anyone else."

 Terezi stayed silent for a few, empty, dripping moments, before she responded.

 "I... I see that."

 "Can I ask a question?" Vriska suddenly changed topic, or so it seemed.

 "I don't see why you couldn't."

 "At the party... were you going to kiss me?" Her voice was monotone.

 There was a sigh. "Yes."

 "If only we met not with blades drawn, eh?"

 "If only." Terezi was sad.

 With her suspicions confirmed, Vriska leaned back. It had been what she imagined since the party itself. She had pulled the heartstrings of her nemesis and puppeteered her to her knees. She had done it a hundred times before, to a hundred different people. But something was different this time. This time, she didn't have to put on an act to win their devoted affections.

 Vriska almost jumped as there was the sudden sound of moving rubble from nearby, and a beam of sunlight grew larger. She cackled as the wall before her was pulled away, and the chanting of her crew could be heard beyond. She was finally about to be free. She looked over to the wall behind which Terezi lay, before her smile slipped somewhat. She supposed she would have to leave her behind.

 It was less than a minute before a single member pulled herself through a gap cleared in the stone, looking around frantically. Her face was filled with shock at the sight of the near-dead Serket before her. She stood silent with an open mouth, staring at her.

 "Could use a little help, sweetie."

 She called in more help, and with a massive heave, they lifted the boulder from across her. She groaned at the change in pressure, and raised an eyebrow as the sight of the amount of blood.

 "Miss Captain, your blood, 'tis blue!" The crew member shouted, her eyes wide.

 "I think I've noticed. Now, help me up, I'm kinda fucked here."

 The crew didn't hesitate to lift her up, sliding their arms under her carefully and carrying her gently across to the opening in the ruin wall.

 "Wait, wait, wait." She stopped them, waving her hand. "Leave me here a second."

 She brushed away their concerns with threats, and was quickly left leaning heavily against the opening to the rubble cave. She looked back in, wincing. She left a moment to grow as she thought about what to say. Some epic one-liner perhaps, a monologue, even.

 No.

 "I suppose this is goodbye then."  She called out.

 "I suppose so." Terezi's tired voice replied.

 "I would take you with me, but..."

 "I'd kill you the moment I got the chance."

 "Yeah." Vriska nodded. "Goodbye."

 "Goodbye."

  Without another word, she waved her crew over to her, to help carry her away from the ruins of the Mad Temple, back to her ship. Just a few meters away from the hole, she spotted a small pile of rum, no doubt brought up to quench the thirst of the workers as they searched for her. Some of her men were moving over to take it back to the ship.

 Groaning as she did so, she reached into a crewman's jacket, taking out a pistol. She wobbled as her only supper was a hand under her only arm, as she took aim. She pulled the trigger and watched as the rum exploded, a massive bellow of fire and smoke near blinding her eye.

 "Cap'n, that smoke will be seen by the Imperial ship."

 "I'm aware. Now get me to my ship, I have some recovering to do."


	6. Queen of Corsairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A legacy

It had been sixteen years since the battle at the Temple of Madness.  
 

 Queen of Corsairs Vriska Serket had realised her dream. After only seven years of brutal subjugation, combat, raiding and all out war, she had forced all other pirate captains into line, until they all served her. With the powers of the old gods, she had control over whoever she wished, her remaining arm had been trained to be even more lethal with a blade than the missing one, and her aim with a pistol had been perfected to a pinpoint hundred meter shot. She was the perfect warrior.

 She had taken some time to recover, lying in her captain quarters for days on end, using her newfound incredible power to steer the ship exactly as she wished, while she was cared for are pampered by a dozen ladies of her choosing.

As soon as she could walk again, she began to train with her sword. It took her two months before she could best her entire crew in a one-on-one. She intensified her training even more, staying up night after night. Another six months before she could handle all of them at once. 

 She started shooting again, taking time to learn with one eye. She started with bottles across the width of the ship, then the length, then from the crows nest, then eventually she began to pick off the gulls in the distance with single shots, watching as their heads were reduced to bloody messes every time. 

 She covered her missing eye with an eyepatch, as she had wished, that was adorned with seven red dots, reminiscent of her mutated pupils from before. She hadn't anything with the missing arm, wearing it as a mark of pride from the vicious fight that had taken it . She doubted she would ever get a fight so beautifully, disgustingly vicious again.  
It was well worth remembering. That was to be sure. After all, it was the only mark of tribute left to the dead Pyrope. The Empire had abandoned any mention or honour of her the moment they realised that she had failed. They tore down her statues, renamed the plaques, and left the legacy of Terezi Pyrope naught but a missing arm on a Queen.

 It made Vriska furious sometimes.

 After a few years, she had started to fight against whatever ships she found, whether they be pirate or Empire. No matter who they belonged to, by the time she was done they served her. She built up her fleet battle by battle, ship by ship, mind by mind. Eventually ships came to her just to join. They knew the legend of Vriska Serket, the unstoppable, unkillable. The perfect pirate, she liked to say to whoever was sharing her bed with her, during her long boastful speeches in the aftermath.

 Soon she had a big enough fleet to rival those of some countries, and found sweet solace in bringing her might to bear against them. She used her power and influence to exact tribute from the crushed nations she pillaged, burned and dethroned. The crowns of a dozen kings and queens lined her throne in her palace.

 With just a few declarations and shows of her might, she established her own kingdom, with herself as queen. Queen of Corsairs. She built a palace from her ship, and let other ships join her. Those that were derelict and close to sinking came to her, attaching them together and forming a great foundation upon which they built.

 In only a few years there was over a hundred ships joined, and the great fortress was built high into the sky, an imposing monstrosity of wood that towered over and leered at everything approaching. Vriska's palace was right at the top, where the view looked across her endless ocean kingdom in all its glory, entire fleets massed and ready to recieve any order she gave.

 It was a sweet, tantalising power, and she gave in almost immediately. She declared war on the Empire. They responded with an armada. It was crushed.

 Vriska led the assault, standing with sword in hand as cannonballs screamed past her, and blood spraying her. She had five ships sink in a brutal and sweetly destructive crash with a wave of her psychic abilities. The splintering ships and panicked cries of drowning sailors were music to the Corsair Queen's ears.

 She remembered severing the final admiral in two with one slash, and savouring the fountain of blood that he became, as she cemented her place as ruler of the waves. She danced with a hundred crews the following nights, a fortnight long celebration of unimaginable revelry and debauchery. Over a hundred of her subjects were killed by  each other in random brawls, swordfights or duels, and another hundred were promoted to captain in countless gambles with their superiors. It was said more gold changed hands in those nights than had ever been seen in the entirety of the Empire before.

 Vriska herself kept up her celebration throughout, never resting for more than a minute, before returning to the jovial fray, her cackling laughter, interrupted occasionally by coughing, the constant beat to which the celebration followed.

 Her every joint was screaming in pain by the time the festivities finally died down, and ships began to depart, headed to whatever plundering they wished, under the new rule of Serket.

 Vriska herself took a different route.

 She instead went back to the gates to the Temple of Madness; the incredible storm through which she had sailed to secure the power she needed, and the storm she had sailed through  to meet her greatest challenge. It brought a tear to her eye to see. She remembered taking out the Pyrope's blade, the very one she had thrown at her in the treasury tower, the second time they had ever been face to face.

 She had used it in her fight against the Commodore, and had used it against every enemy since. It was a way of showing respect, she thought. She would use no weapon but that of her nemesis, her true equal. The only person who could stand on the same footing as her.

 But despite the many nights Vriska had spent sitting on her throne in a gigantic throne room, silently almost wishing that the Pyrope had lived, so she could have a tale as tall as the one she had lived through with her, she knew it was not to be.

 She couldn't because  


 Terezi Pyrope was not dead.

 The Empire may have liked to pretend such a thing, to refuse to acknowledge what had really happened. They wanted history to swallow it up and leave it behind. They didn't want a single soul to know that the greatest warrior the Empire had ever bred had turned against them.

 They brought her back to the palace on a plank of wood. They barely let her recover before she was brought before the Empress herself, using a cane to walk and not trip up.  
They made her admit her failure, to tell of the powers the Serket had gained, and to explain how her own ship had been controlled by the pirate's mind, to fire upon her, letting the corsair blind her. She hissed the story between her teeth, her anger beyond belief. Her hands did not stop trembling the entire time, furious red hot rage a vortexw within her.  

 Then they stripped her of her title. She was Arch-Commodore no longer, on account of her blindness making her unfit to serve. She was to be a governor, they said. A civil servant to the Empire, leaving her past behind her.

 She disagreed.

 She spent a thousand nights training, ruthless and efficient, as she had always been. She learned to overcome her blindness, through smell, hearing and touch. She didn't realise it at the time, and only worked it out years later, that when the red hot blade soaked in godly sunlight hit her eyes, its power was imbued into her. She had no other powers to increase through it, but her senses, recovery and dexterity had increased a tenfold.  
When she had mastered how to overcome her lack of sight, she picked up the sword once more. She spent another year training, mastering her technique once more, until she was even more skilled than before.

 Then she slaughtered the nobles of the Empire.

 It was a night of blood and gore, ringing alarm bells and shouts of surprise and betrayal, as Terezi sank blade after blade into the chests of those who had cast her down. She stole their funds, their stashed away gems, serving as getaway gold should they need to run from their corrupt intrigue. She fled the Empire, leaving a trail of devastation and death, as she set out to build an army of her own.

 She had become even more like Vriska Serket than she realised.

 She used the fortunes she had stolen from bloodied corpses to begin recruiting mercenaries from the fringes of society, untrained and undisciplined, and bought small galleons, not suited for combat at all. She didn't need them to be. The plan had unfolded in her mind long ago, and she intended to fulfill it to the letter. The manpower was a mere distraction for her.

 Within another year she was ready, and set sail with her small army, all disguised as merchants, small time pirates or passenger sailors. She was at the helm of one of the less conspicuous ships. A tiny, pitiful affair. The last ship she had been in was the biggest the world had ever seen, so this felt like an insult. But she endured.

 It was a necessary sacrifice, she knew that. Because her time was coming.

 So very soon she would have her revenge.  
   
   



	7. This Was It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all comes to an end.

 It was all coming now, as the city of Vriska Serket came into of her crew, the massive palace atop standing arrogant and smug, just as the Pirate had, every time she saw her.

 Terezi listened as the city came closer, feeling the ship wave underneath her as she passed between the countless armed pirate ships. Some were fighting about 60 degrees clockwise from where she was, the firefight seemingly a common happening. A few men were shot as she passed, falling into the water. A few floating wooden islands off the main where on fire, the roaring audible above even the cannons. She could hear people who were caught in the blaze screaming. She could hear the clashing of a dozen cutlasses as pirates fought all around her, just for fun, for bets, and over a single insult.

 Seemingly hundreds chanted along to the single sea shanty that rung out from the massive city, a chorus to deathly, revelrous and strong that Terezi half expected the devil to claw itself out of the ground and bring its viol. 

 She couldn't making out the lyrics until she drew up right to the docks, which extended around the entire uneven, crazed circumference of the construction. She was stepping out when the tale of the great Corsair Queen Vriska Serket was made clear to her ears.

 She wasn't surprised. In a city seemingly built to suit the pirate that was Vriska Serket so perfectly, it made perfect sense for the city to worship her. 

 Terezi wiped her hands as she stepped off the ship, hoping that she was inconspicuous enough to not arouse the suspicion of anyone nearby. Although she could already tell that a  fight to the death would most likely be ignored, she had no intention of letting one interrupt her plans too quickly. 

 She snarled and ushered her mercenaries to hurry. The stamping of their boots was deafening as they carried crate after crate of cargo onto the docks, setting up great piles. 

 It was weird to stand on a rickety dock, only held up by the combined buoyancy of a hundred ships, while the entire frame rumbled with the combined chorus of a thousand voices. She didn't understand how anyone could feel safe in such a city, with what she was about to do so easily done.

 "'Ey what do y'all think yer doin'? This be my dock!"

 Terezi sneered as a racketeer approached her, no doubt trying to swindle some coins from her pocket. Back in the Empire she would have responded with a few swift punches, then a show of her authority of reputation. Here however...

 Terezi whipped a pistol from her coat, firing one shot, and listened as a body hit the planks, before slipping into the ocean below. The freedom felt good. Things were much simpler here, she had to admit.

 She reloaded her pistol as she waited for the rest of the crates to be stacked on the dock, listening to the groaning of her lackeys. After finally pushing the bullet down the bottom of the barrel, she tucked the weapon away inside her coat once more. 

 "We're all done here, Miss." One of her mercenaries informed her. 

 "Very well. Get these crates spread out as evenly as you can on this level of the city, and when they are done, shoot one." She explained carefully, before she immediately spun on her heel and took off.

 "Sh-shoot one?" The mercenary asked, confused.

"Did I stutter?" She reached into her coat.

 "N-NO not at all ma'am."

 With a sadistic grin on her face, Terezi began her way up the city.  
   
  
 Vriska Serket was where she usually was: on her throne, drinking from a bottle of rum held by the hand of a tender woman companion across her lap, while her hand ran through golden locks. She took a great swig, before guiding the woman's head down, a gentle hand on the back of her neck. She let their tongues wrestle for a while, ignoring the rum that dripped down over her half unbuttoned shirt. 

 There was a sound at the great doors leading into the throne room, as they creaked open, the ten foot tall slabs of wood slowly giving way to the visitor who walked throw.

 With a grown, Vriska pulled away from the kiss, pulling the girl farther down so she could see over her. She felt kisses along her neck as she strained to make out who it was so far away.

 "EY! WHO'S THAT?" She roared out, before she took another long swig.

 The figure didn't stop or identify themself as they stepped through the shadows, approaching the lit portion of the room, about fifteen meters from the throne. Vriska raised an eyebrow, and lashed out with a psychic burst.

 The figure flinched, but, after a few seconds of standing still, continued forward. Vriska furrowed her brows. Very few people could do that, and every one who could was trouble. Concerned, she reached between her and her company, pulling out a pistol just as the figure stepped into the light.

 Vriska felt the blue blood drain from her face. 

 "Get up." She ordered. The woman obeyed immediately, scampering off as the Corsair stood up, hastily pulling up her britches and tying the cord. She seem to forget to rebutton her shirt as she stepped forward.

 "But..." She started but trailed off, as the figure stopped.

 "But you're dead."

 Terezi Pyrope laughed, drawing her sword. "No. I'm not."

 She was a mess compared to her usual attire. Instead of a clean uniform, perfectly cut hair, well cleaned weapons and washed face, she now had a dirty coat that Serket could smell even from a few meters away, her hair was jagged and looked as though she had cut it with a knife herself, and her face was plastered with dirt.

 "But then... Why?"

 "I could tell you that, and spend a few hours explaining the intricasies of why everyone who wasn't a rich scumbag thought i was dead... Or I could finish what I started back on that god-forsaken island so many years ago."

 Vriska tilted her head back. "So that's why you're here?"

 Terezi nodded.

 "And here I was thinking you just wanted to visit little old me." She joked, as she stepped back to her throne, tossing the pistol to the side to pick up the sword lying against it. Terezi's sword.

 "You kept it." The Pyrope stated.

 "Yeah, had it on the island too, although you seemed a little too infuriated to realise."

 "Interesting. Are you ready?"

 "I don't think it's possible to be ready for this. Are you?"

 "No." 

 "Then I think we should begin."

 "Agreed."

 The two stepped towards each other, their swords flashing the instant before their steps were to meet. A sudden flurry a clashes rang out, as their blades met ten times per second, becoming a glinting blur between them.

 Vriska felt her adrenaline pumping as she fought, finally facing her greatest opponent in fair combat. She felt her muscles in pain after only a moment, as Terezi met her every moment with dexterous perfection.  

 The Serket had never met someone who could match her strikes since she had gained her power. Her movements were too quick to be caught by the human eye, nevermind to any other senses which the Pyrope had to use, since her eyes were currently empty sockets that stared out blankly with their dark pits.

 She furrowed her brow, staring at the blank face of her nemesis as she fought. She wondered how she could seem so calm and serene, in this most climactic of moments. But then Vriska saw it. Every time their swords met, in the hundreds of clashes that had already passed, there was a single flicker across her face. A lip tugged up to reveal the white of a tooth, the every so slight furrowing a brow. 

 She was hiding it, but Pyrope was angry.  
 

 Terezi Pyrope was filled with an unbridled rage she had never known, as she hacked and slashed at her enemy. Any anger she had thought she knew paled in comparison to the supernova of hatred and wrathful vengeance that screamed like a banshee in her ears, that coursed through her veins like a hot lava, burning up her insides with the tumultuous power of the raw seething loathing that she held for the woman before her. 

 She had eluded Terezi at every turn for the last 25 years. She had fought Terezi in both combat and wits again and again, and emerged on top every time. Even when her arm had been cleaved off, and her eye torn out, she became a Pirate Queen, while Terezi was cast off into the gutter.

 She was responsible for every wrong in the Pyrope's life for as long as she cared to remember. She had brought pain and shame beyond reason, had mocked and defaced her, and had dragged her down to be just like her. 

 She was her rival beyond all others. She was the burning sun Terezi wished to drag down into the sea, the mammoth she wished to slay, the great tidal wave she wished to halt. She was everything.

 Terezi took a step forward, slashing wide. Vriska dodged, leaning back, and simultaneously stabbing out. Terezi sidestepped, before she spun, launching another wide swing. It was parried, and Terezi had to leap back to avoid a downward slash, but bounced back. 

 Their blades met, and they pushed towards each other, one blade sliding down the other as their faces were but an inch from each other.

 "I will kill you." Terezi stated simply. 

 Then the explosions began.  
 

 The entire city shook as the chains of crates went off, one after another. Vast explosions of fire sent out shockwaves, snapping walls and supports, and lightning everything aflame. A great wave of flame spread out from the lowest level of the city, bursting out like water caught under a hammer, before it rose up, lightning more and more of the city alight.

 Vriska stumbled back, and immediately realised what Terezi had done.

 "You madwoman!" She laughed. "I'm so proud of you!"

  Terezi paused, before snarling and attacking again. There was a few brief rings as their swords met, and they parried, dodged and deflected strikes, before the full force of the devastation rose up to them. 

 A massive chasm spread across the ground, splitting the entire room in two. Within five seconds, the gap had seperated the two combatants. Vriska took deep breaths at her reprieve from the combat, before she looked over to where Terezi stood, looking desperate and filled with burning rage. She laughed. 

 "I will see you again, Miss Pyrope, but I'm afraid I have a ship to catch."

 With a cackling, jovial laugh, Vriska sprinted out through the back door to the palace, the incredible realisation that the pursuit was to begin anew dawning on her mind, filling her with delightful glee.  
  


 Terezi Pyrope was not done. Not yet. Because neither of them were dead. This wouldn't continue.

 With a scream that unleashed every emotion that had consumed her for 25 years, she leapt. She entered a blissful moment in the air, almost floating. The smoke that surged up from the chasm filled her lungs, but she didn't care. She didn't care for the burning flames that licked her ankles, nor the screaming that rang trhough the entire city. She didn't care for any of it.

 The only thing she cared for was the feeling of her feet landing against the other side of the chasm. 

 She set off immediately, sprinting after Vriska. She went through corridor after corridor, following the hearty sounds of the pirate's laughter, that was so clear and vivid in Terezi's mind, she thought it could almost be an apparition made to trick her, the final threads of her sanity snapping.

 Her boots broke some of the planks behind her as she shot forward at an inhuman speed, pushing herself off walls at corners to speed her chase. She took every chance she could to get closer, every little speed boost and every shortcut. She couldn't let Serket get away. 

 She was so close now, she could almost taste the blue blood against her tongue.  
 

 Speeding down towards the lowest level of the city, Vriska was screaming with laughter. She had a sword in one hand, a pistol in the other, and was cutting a bloody swathe down. She didn't care who it was, be they pirate or one of what she guessed to be Pyrope's mercenaries. She cut them down. She slit a throat, kicked one from a railing, hearing their scream as they fell a hundred feet, and seized control of ones mind, making him raise his own pistol to his head and pull the trigger.

 She was in the rush she had missed so dearly. The rush that came in the dance of death, when she wasn't sure if her pursuer would catch her or not, whether or not she would die. It was what made her giddy with excitement.

 Dropping through floor after floor of burning wood and acrid smoke, Vriska made her way to the very core of the lowest level, where her plan for this eventuality lay.  
 She pushed through walls of fire and braved heat so intense she felt as though she may collapse right there, until she finally reached it. She was proud to see her old crew already at their stations, detaching the ship from its long-standing position.

 With one great leap, Vriska was on the deck, as the ship began to move out of the fiery tunnel, headed to the open ocean only a bit ahead.

 Vriska couldn't wait. She knew Pyrope would survive. If she survived the Temple she could survive anything. And soon she would chase her again, and again, and again. Every time Vriska evaded her nemesis she would lay chase again, continuing their eternal game. 

 It was how it was to be, Vriska thought, as the exit to the infernal, flaming tunnel came up. 

 She smiled and felt tears of excited, happy hope well, before she brushed them away. 

 Then Terezi Pyrope dropped onto the deck.

 Vriska stared at her. 

 Terezi began to walk towards her.

 Maybe she was wrong.

 She brandished her blade.

 Maybe this was the end of their chase.

 This was it.

 Terezi stabbed. Vriska deflected, before slashing downwards. Terezi sidestepped, snarling as she swung the blade right for Vriska's face. She leaned back, watching the blade soar just over her nose, before she jabbed out, hoping to impale the blade into Terezi's shoulder. Terezi spun away, bring her cutlass up above her head before slashing downwards. Vriska blocked the strike, and snarled herself when, with one dexterous manoeuver, Terezi spun her blade, knocking Vriska's right out of her hand.

 The Pyrope stabbed, and Vriska batted the sword as quick as she could, lashing out with a quick strike with her wrist, so that the bottom drove right into Terezi's throat. She took advantage of the momentary advantage to grab Terezi's wrist and twist, making her drop the sword. The Serket kicked it away as hard as she could, not caring that the blade bit into her foot as she did so.

 She turned back just in time to catch the former-commodores punch right in her face, sending her stumbling back. Regaining her composure, she punched, but found it blocked by Terezi's guard.

 The Pyrope struck twice, and Vriska barely managed to knock aside each punch with her one arm, before she lashed out with a kick, catching Terezi in the side. She followed up with an uppercut to her stomach, feeling her fist hit hard. 

 She was caught by a swift hook, and stumbled back. Seeing a jab come from the Pyrope's left hand, Vriska swung her arm up, catching the extended arm by the wrist. Another punch was coming, so Vriska tugged Terezi towards her, leaning to the right as the punch barely missed the back of her head. 

 She stopped for a moment, and so did Terezi, as they stared at each other. Vriska was holding Terezi's wrist by her side, and Terezi's other arm was extended over Vriska's shoulder.

 They stared at each other. Two nemeses, over two decades of hatred and violence between them. They had mutilated each other, burned each other, and fought to the bitter end. They had ever ounce of their being filled with desire to strike the other down, to place themselves on top.

 But they were the only of their kind. Ruthless, powerful, determined, willing to push against anything to accomplish their goals. 

 They were unique among mere mortals. 

 The inscription at the Temple came to Vriska's mind. The Devil and the Angel. How wrong it was. They were two devils, vying for the same hell to rule over. 

 Vriska looked at the conflicted face of the woman who had tried to kill her three times. Who had shot out her arm and cut off her arm. The woman she was destined to either kill, or die trying. She was destined to.

 She sneered.

 Vriska fucking hated destiny.

 Leaning forward she planted her lips hard on Terezi's, and let go on her wrist. There was barely a beat before Terezi returned the gesture. Vriska felt the Pyrope's arms slip over her shoulders, holding her tight. 

 Vriska took control of her crew as she held Terezi close, making them continue to lead the ship out of the burning ruins of her city as it collapsed behind, their silhouette cast against a great roaring pillar of flame. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i added like 600 words to the third last chapter, and a tiny bit to the second last  
> i dont think this one needs to be changed too much, and i cant be btohered going through it myself, so if one of my quality readers says to change something ill do it then  
> but yeah thanks for reading this fic, its been sitting with only two chapters for a very long time, glad i got the rest finished in this week  
> over the weekend i may be writing a porrim smutfic, or some original work  
> or both  
> who knows, apparently i can write a lot nowadays  
> anyway byeee


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